TGS 2: Bloodmoon
by byronthedeadpoet
Summary: A continuation of my gender swapped Twilight Saga, starting with Nightfall.
1. Chapter 1: One Year

I didn't have the dreams anymore. I hadn't for months, at least by my reckoning. Which meant, as it normally was, my alarm was the first thing that woke me.

I rubbed my face, sighing sharply, trying to force that last sleep from me. I turned, rolling out of bed, the fall to the floor definitely waking me the rest of the way up. I landed on my palms and the balls of my feet, starting to do push-ups. I passed my usual fifteen, going to twenty, feeling the euphoric press and pull of muscle. Standing after I was starting to feel the slight high of long association, I made my bed in strict order, pulling sheets and blankets tight. With everything in order, I rolled on deodorant, grabbed my free weights, and did two sets of biceps curls, each a set of twenty on each arm, followed by two sets of the same of triceps extensions. When I was done, I did forty squats and another fifteen push-ups, cooling down with the routine two-minute plank. Running to the bathroom, I shaved, then showered and brushed my teeth at the same time, only a rinse without bothering to shampoo my new shorter hair or doing a thorough soaping up. Wearing the towel back to my room, I hung it on the drying rack, dropped my sleepwear in the hamper, and grabbed the clothes for the day, hung neatly on my Thursday hanger. I put on the starched shirt, the creased pants, and the simple, ironed button up, all interchangeable with every other shirt, pants, and button-up combo. Getting dressed, I glanced at my calendar, seeing that I had a shift at Newton's after school today.

I looked out the window. Carrie was already gone. Putting my earbuds in, I started my iPod, hardcore rock numbing me and drowning out the world as I had a quick breakfast, all organic, and packed my lunch with the same. Grabbing my coat and bag, I walked out the door, locking it behind me.

I had time before school started. I read my books, looking over my notes, firming up everything in my mind. I left my earbuds in until I got to class, covertly pulling them out and shutting everything down before I made it to my seat at the back of the room. As I had with the calendar this morning, I tried to ignore the date.

The class went as they always did. The teacher talked, and I wrote notes. He or she asked questions, various peoples answering them. I turned in assignments and moved onto the next class. I ate lunch in my truck, or outside if the weather was nice. If I wasn't in class, the earbuds were in. I spoke to no one. I looked at nothing I didn't have to, staring openly at anyone who dared to stare back until they got uncomfortable and left me alone. More classes, and then the school day ended.

I drove to Newton's, doing my homework in the truck, despite the numerous offers to have me do it in the employee lounge. I started my shift as I always did, ahead of schedule. After a half hour or so, the actual time of my schedule shift rolled around and I clocked in. The Newtons weren't willing to pay me for more than my schedule hours, so this was my compromise, despite their protestations. I worked my hours, finished my shift, then did any additional stocking and cleanup as needed be. Then I went home, earbuds in. I came home, prepared dinner either for just myself if my mother had already made it or for both of us if she had not. I ate beside her in silence, the earbuds not coming out. Then I went upstairs, finished any homework I still had left. Once finished, I did the same workout that I had in the morning, plus any additional exercises I was considering working into my routine. Then, I grabbed more sleepwear, showered thoroughly, again brushing my teeth during. Drying off and redressing, I didn't bother with combing my hair, the length too short for any real need. I then dropped my dirty clothes in the hamper, straightened anything out of its meticulous placement, and I marked the day off my calendar. Lying in bed, I turned off the light, staring at the darkened ceiling, waiting for sleep to find me.

That was the hardest time. I had nothing to do. I had no routine to follow, no structure to be held to. My mind could wander into painful, soul-shattering topics before I could stop myself. And, of course, there was always the chance the dreams would come back. But, that night, especially that night, it was hard. Today had been the day. It had been one year since I had come to Forks. One year since my life had been irrevocably altered. Now, it was again unrecognizable in turn.

I laid motionless, staring at nothing, willing sleep to come. And, as I feared, the dreams came back.

The meadow was bright, piercingly so, the sun bouncing around the leaves and grass and flowers. As I always did, I turned around and around, trying to find some way out of the clearing, somewhere to run, but the dense woods left me trapped.

"Ben."

No! No, no, no, no, no!

"This is a dream," I whispered. "It's a dream. This is a dream. It's just a dream. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's a dream! It isn't real!"

"Ben," she said soothingly, cajolingly. "It's okay. Relax. It's alright."

I felt the cool hand against my back. I rolled away, keeping my eyes tight shut, my hands and feet scrabbling to get under me.

"Don't touch me!" I cried. "It's a dream, it's a dream, a dream, just a dream!"

"Ben," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"No, no, no," I moaned. "No. No. No..."

"I never want to hurt you, Ben."

"Liar!" I screamed. "Liar, liar, liar!"

"I lo-"

"Don't!" I screeched. "Shut up! Shut! Up! Leave me alone!"

The hands returned. I was too exhausted to keep fighting. I felt like my limbs were lead weights. I refused to believe it, to take comfort in it, refused to let it in.

"Please," I begged. "Please, please. Just... please, just leave me alone."

"Love," she said. "I can't. You're hurting. I have to help you. Let me do this. You can let me do this much."

"I..." I whimpered. "I can't!"

"Everything will be alright," she said, arms encircling me. "Let go. It will be alright."

"I..."

I woke up.

"NOOOO!" I screamed. "No! No! No! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!"

I cried for the first time in months. I hit the wall hard enough that my bed shifted. I pressed harder, shifting it further, feeling the strength, the pressure and release, the strain. I got up, pushing my bed back where it was, immediately falling to the floor, doing push-ups. I hit thirty, nearly crumpling. I stayed on the floor, breathing hard.

"Just leave me alone," I whispered. "Please. Just leave me alone..."


	2. Chapter 2: Broken Routine

Friday morning was going as expected, and then, naturally, my iPod quit working. I looked at it for nearly twenty minutes, until I couldn't deny that I was going to be late for class anymore. It was locked up in a weird why that made it think all the songs were still there, but when I went to play something, there was nothing on it. I had no choice but to leave it at home. I thought about wearing the earbuds anyway, but I hated this little pretense for some reason.

I was late, and whoever I had for whatever subject I had first period complained. I didn't care enough to pay attention.

The rest of the day went smoothly, as expected, until lunch. It was pouring rain, which wouldn't have been a problem had I brought my rain jacket. In my haste after trying to fix my iPod, I had forgotten it. As it was, there was only one place I could go to eat where I wouldn't get soaked.

I walked into the cafeteria, and I got the impression that more than one group of students stopped talking as I did. I didn't look up, look where I was really going, so it took several passes looking only at the floor in front of me before I actually found an empty table. I sat and began eating.

"Hey."

I looked up. Briefly.

Jesse and Angelo were sitting across from me. Jesse looked somewhat annoyed, as though he really didn't want to be here. Angelo looked rather indifferent, an entire lack of expectation on his face.

They sat and didn't speak to me at all. They chatted once in a while but made no real effort to maintain an in-depth conversation. They just were present and spent time sitting with me. I didn't say a single word to them.

The bell was about to ring when Jesse finally addressed me again.

"Hey," he said. "Ben? Dude? Hey!"

I finally looked at him. He was looking at Angelo like he was an idiot. Angelo was looking back with a quiet persistence. Jesse looked back.

"We're going to the movies tonight," he said. "Some brainless zombie movie. Want to go?"

I blinked at him but said nothing.

He turned, rolling his eyes, dismissive.

"You don't have to say or do anything," said Angelo. "Look, just... come. Sit in the back seat, be silent, we'll buy your ticket, get you popcorn, whatever. You don't have to do anything. Just come with us."

There was a long moment. Jesse looked at him but kept his mouth shut.

"You're missed," said Angelo.

I sat there another long moment. The bell rang. I kept staring. They got up, started to go to class.

"I'm not making any promises," I said.

Angelo tried not to look hopeful.

"We're not asking you to," he said.

I looked at the wall.

"I don't work tonight," I said, estimating. "I will be ready to go by six."

"Okay," said Angelo. "Okay. We'll see you then."

The rest of the day was as it should be. The rain had broken by last period, and I really didn't have that much homework. By the time I got home, I was regretting my decision.

I worked out for a half hour, then tried to do some homework. It wasn't working. I worked out some more, then tried again. It still wasn't working. But the time 5:30 rolled around, I was ready to call and cancel. I was about to track down my phone when I thought about it.

I knew why I hated the idea of going. For one, I wouldn't be in my routine. I wouldn't be in control of what I did, what I might have to say or do. When I was out of my routine, things had a tendency of hurting. Badly. And two, I couldn't have a life. I knew what having a life looked like, and it wasn't possible for me. Inevitably, trying to have one would just prove just how impossible that was. I really could go without having my messed up existence shoved in my face.

But I also knew this. No matter what, every distraction I set for myself had a shelf-life. After a while, I would need new songs, new exercises, new routines. I couldn't avoid change. Maybe this would be a much better distraction.

I showered, for something to do mostly, and grabbed the clothes off my Saturday hanger. Wearing the same outfit for a night and a day didn't bother me any. How was I trying to impress?

I grabbed my wallet and my keys and walked out the door, meeting them at the curb.

"Hey," said Angelo. Jesse said nothing.

"So," said Angelo as we pulled out, turned towards Jesse in the driver's seat. "What's up with you and Mickie, anyway?"

"What do you mean what's up with Mickie?" Jesse asked. "You know what's up."

"I know what you say when we're at school," Angelo pointed out. "I know what you say when it might get back to her. You say you're just friends. But she's cutting her hair differently. She's wearing look-at-me outfits. And so far, she hasn't talked to any guys outside our group."

"What?" Jesse said. "You think she's still all into me? We broke up before Senior year even started. There's no way she's still into me."

"If you say so," said Angelo.

"If you two are going to talk girls all night, you can let me off here," I said flatly.

"It speaks!" laughed Jesse.

I frowned.

"Not all night," assured Angelo.

I didn't feel assured.

"So, what's up with Lauren?" asked Jesse.

"What do you mean?" asked Angelo.

"He has been walking around school like he owns the place," said Jesse.

"Oh that," said Angelo.

"That what?" asked Jesse.

"There is a rumor going around that he had... relations with one of the more attractive girls on the reservation," Angelo replied.

"Who?" I asked. Why did I ask?

Angelo shrugged, "I really have no idea. I didn't bother paying attention to the details."

If anyone else had said that to me, I would have called them a self-involved liar. Not Angelo though. He was a decent guy, to be sure.

"I bet if you were to ask him, it was two girls," said Jesse. "At the same time. One was from out of town though, and the other has a boyfriend, so she wasn't to keep it on the down low. But really, she needed dat D."

"Dude," said Angelo. "You're entitled to do whatever, but seriously, you soundly like a complete ass."

"The good boy thing didn't work out," said Jesse. "I thought I'd try it the other way for a while."

"You're interested in girls who want to be treated like crap?" I asked.

"You're one to talk," he muttered.

I was instantly prepared to bite his face off.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" I asked heatedly.

"Nothing," said Angelo, defusing. "It doesn't mean anything."

"I think it does," I said. "I think if it didn't mean anything then Jesse wouldn't have said anything."

"You don't get to judge me on how I choose to date women," he bit back.

"I asked you a simple question," I snapped in return.

"In the judge-y-est way possible!" said Jesse loudly.

"I can't control whether or not you feel judged," I pointed out.

"But you can avoid being an ass!" shouted Jesse.

He was right. I didn't have to like it.

"Yeah," I said. "And so can you."

Jesse pulled over, putting on his blinker to turn around.

"Jesse," cajoled Angelo.

"No!" he said. "No! I'm done. I told you, this wasn't going to work. He's not interested in being our friend anymore."

"You're right," I said. "I'm not."

"You see!" Jesse said, jerking in his seat. "He isn't even trying to deny it. He went big leagues and now he's too good for us."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, completely lost.

"Don't do it," said Angelo warningly.

He pulled over completely, "You got dumped. Boo freaking hoo! You aren't too good to get exed."

I tried to get out of the car. It was hard to do so in the two door, but I still tried to force my way out. It shook the smaller car roughly, and after a moment, Jesse got the hint and tried to move.

"No," said Angelo.

I kept going, and we made it out of the car at the same time.

"No!" said Angelo loudly. "Ben, come back."

"You can go straight to hell," I said, "the both of you! I didn't ask for this! I don't want this! Any of it!"

"We know that," said Angelo.

"Could have fooled me!" I said harshly.

"Look!" said Angelo loudly, louder than I had ever heard him talk, loud enough to shut me up, at least for the moment.

He looked exhausted, "Ben, I'm not going to pretend I get what happened or even know what happened, because I don't. I have no idea what you felt or are feeling. I only know one thing. We lost a friend, man. We were friends, then you disappeared, and when you came back, we weren't friends anymore. It's been a long time since whatever happened happened, and you haven't made one single effort. To some people, that would be hard not to take personally."

I was an ass. The ass-y-est ass in Assville.

"Look," said Angelo, quieter, "we just want our friend back. If you don't want that too, that cool. I can't say I'm happy about it, but dude, it's your rodeo. Can you say that much at least? What do you want?"

What did I want? WHAT DID I WANT?!

I slumped. They didn't deserve this crap. They just didn't. This was my deal, not theirs.

"I can't be friends," I said.

"You don't want to be," said Jesse obstinately.

"It isn't about what I want," I said loudly. "I couldn't if I wanted to, so it is moot, either way."

Jesse shook his head, "It isn't moot to us."

Of course, I wanted to be friends with them.

"It isn't possible," I said. Something in Angelo's posture shifted.

"We can still be friends with you," he said.

"You might be able to," said Jesse with spiteful sarcasm.

"Jesse," said Angelo.

"No," expounded Jesse. "No! I went along and played nice, but in the end, he can't even-"

"No," said Angelo, agreeable. "He can't."

Jesse looked at me, long and hard.

"Agh!" he said, whipping his head around. After a long moment, he said, "Are you coming to the movie or not?"

I got back into the car. I wasn't happy about it, but I did.


	3. Chapter 3: Decreased Humanity

The movie was crap. The acting was wooden, the plot hole could fit moons through them, the gore completely fake. The popcorn was stale. The crowd was loud. The only plus side was that I didn't pay for any if it.

"What'd you think?" asked Angelo.

"Dude," said Jesse, "that was so good! They're totally going to make a sequel!"

I suppressed a snort. Angelo noticed and grinned at me. I rolled my eyes. Halfway through, I stopped myself.

"Food?" asked Jesse.

"I could eat," said Angelo.

I was not interested in the food they had in Port Angeles, but it wasn't exactly like I was getting myself home.

We went to a local burger joint, deciding to eat inside, and after I insisted twice that I wasn't hungry, Angelo bought an extra side of curly fries. I pointedly ignored them when the tray was delivered.

"Well, now," said Jesse, "isn't this interesting?"

A similar group of girls was sitting across the seating area, casting furtive and speculative glances in our direction. Finally, the boldest of them made her way towards, a confident swagger in her step.

I suddenly wished I had a burger to disappear behind.

"Boys," she said, her voice equally confident. "How are you all tonight?"

"We're fine," said Angelo politely.

"Quite fine," said Jesse with a leer.

She gave him a slightly devious smile.

"My friends and I were wondering if you might want to push our tables together," she said, adding a throaty, "so to speak."

I would have bet dollars to donuts that Jesse would have pantsed himself had she asked him to.

"Unfortunately," said Angelo, "we're having a guys night. But thank you for the invite."

"Oh, what's a matter?" she said, trying for seduction but coming off as slightly desperate. "You all do like girls, right?"

"Of course!" Jesse expounded.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked. "You're going to make me look lame in front of my friends."

"No, thank you," said Angelo.

"We'll make it worth your while," she said, even more suggestively. I had had enough.

"We said no!" I said harshly.

Tables all around us went silent. She looked surprised, scared almost. She beat a quickening retreat back to her table.

"Dude," said Jesse. "Rude much! I could have at least gotten her number before you scared her off."

"She wasn't interested in what we wanted," I said. "Girls like that aren't worth talking to."

"That was a little rude," said Angelo. "Look, I'll go apologize. I'll be right..."

Two guys were heading our way. I wasn't sure, but they could easily be out of high school. They weren't small either. The two of them together were probably weight something close to the three of us, and it wasn't fat. Mostly.

"What seems to be the problem here?" asked the first one.

"No problem," said Angelo.

"We weren't talking to you, limp noodle," said the second. They were looking at me.

These guys were chumps. This had nothing to do with me. I was on their turf, and I had done something that made me look threatening to them and their supposed dominance. They wanted to make an example out of me, show me up so they didn't feel weak. I bet they didn't even know the girls.

And somehow, I understood them. Because my reaction wasn't about then either. They weren't particularly offensive or annoying, but I could talk back to them. I could tell them off. I could feel strong, feel tough, and let them have it with my words if not my deeds. But I didn't do any of that. I did the most insulting and vindicating act I could think of. I looked over my shoulder, sweeping my eyes across the restaurant, looking right through them, right past them, not giving them any notice at all. Turning back to the table, I picked up a curly fry and bit into it.

One of them shoved our tray off the table, taking the unwrapped burgers with it. The other grabbed me by the shirt, slamming me down on my back on the table.

"You think that's funny, little man?" he hissed into my face, spittle flecking my face.

I once heard the first two keys to winning any fight was not being afraid to take a hit and not being afraid to hit back. I was neither.

I simply slammed my head forward. My forehead hit his nose with a very satisfying and audible crunch. He howled, dropping back. I stood up, shaking off the momentary dizziness I felt as his partner had to get around him to get at me. I watched, unblinking.

He wasn't interested in hitting me right off. He was more interested in threatening me, to press me back with his impressive size and his flinging fists, impress me into lowering my guard, making his job easier. But I had seen real power, real speed, real ferocity. This guy was nothing.

As he threw an ineffective right cross at my head, I punched him directly in the gut, underhanded, using the muscles of my legs and arms both, augmenting the lift of my squat with the curl of my biceps, landing with all the force my daily workouts had instilled in me. He slumped, steadying himself on a nearby table. I stood over him, lining up my punch, and inexpert as my blow was, he wasn't moving and I didn't hold back. He slumped, collapsing to the ground, momentarily senseless.

My heart was thudding in my chest. Adrenaline sang in my veins. Power was electric in my muscles. I hadn't felt more alive since...

I quickly surveyed the room. No one else was coming. I didn't relax just yet.

"What's going on here?" boomed a manager's voice.

"They started it," cried a bystander, pointing my two attackers. "They picked a fight for no reason I could see."

The girls from the other table were leaving quickly.

"Now, Joe," the manager said, looking at the boy holding his nose, "what did I say about you acting up in here?"

"He broke my damn nose!" he whimpered.

"It ain't broke," the manager said. "Let's see. Oh, shut up. You're fine. You alright, son?"

He was speaking to me.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Son," he said, his tone a bit unease, "you've got blood on your face."

I wiped a hand and felt blood smear on my forehead.

"It isn't mine," I said.

The manager looked a little more uneasy.

"Now," he said, collecting himself, "do you want me to call the police for you?"

"No," I said evenly. "I think they got the point."

"No, call them!" moaned Joe. "I want to press charges!"

"You started it, you halfwit!" the manager said. "Get your friend and get out of here. If I catch you hassling folks in here one more time, I'll eighty-six your asses, ya hear?"

They stumbled away. The manager looked at the food on the floor.

"Here," he said, "I'll get your food brought back out to you. What was your number?"

"Two thirty-two," said Jesse, staring at me. "Could we get that to-go?"

I went to the bathroom to clean my face. I really wasn't hurt at all. My wrist was a little sore because I didn't line up the punch right, but that was nothing really. I checked if my back was bruised, and nothing was showing yet, if at all. When I came back out, Jesse and Angelo had their food in to-go bags and were standing by the door. We got out of town before anyone said anything.

"Okay," said Jesse with feigned nonchalance, "what the heck was that?"

"What?" I asked, not sure what he meant.

"That," said Jesse. "What you did. I mean, I know guys who get into fights. That wasn't that."

I shook my head, "What do you want me to say?"

Angelo stayed looking forward, "I think we just don't understand what is going on with you, man. Can you help us out?"

"Help you how?" I asked. "I don't know what's going on any better than you do. Those jerks came at me! I would have been perfectly happy just going about my meal."

"Until you took them apart," Jesse said with a humorless laugh. "I mean, seriously, those guys looked like they could bench you, and you dropped them like graded homework. Where the heck did that even come from?"

I shook my head, "I've been working out."

"We noticed," snickered Angelo.

"Dude," said Jesse, "every single person who's attracted to guys who goes to our school has noticed. And everyone else can't help but notice them notice. What are you up to now? Twenty pounds heavier than you were?"

"More than thirty," I said, honestly. "It's more tone than bulk."

"Dude, really?" Jesse asked. "Really? Why? What's the point? You don't want to date anyone. You aren't doing this for the attention. You aren't really that physically active, unless are you winning fights every weekend and this is just the first one we've seen?"

The flexed the muscle in my back and shoulders. The idea had merit.

"No," I said. "This was new."

"Well," said Angelo, "that was a little scary."

"Scary?" I asked, astonished. "Scary how?"

They glanced at each other.

"I guess you would have to see it from the outside," said Angelo. "But like, you weren't scared. You weren't trying to act tough or be intimidating or anything."

"You didn't react like a normal person would," said Jesse.

"What?" I retorted, offended.

"You didn't react like a person normally would," clarified Angelo. "People get scared, shaken, worried. You weren't any of that. You didn't beat those guys because you were stronger than them or anything. You beat them because they expected you to behave like a person should. But you didn't. You behaved like something different, like something else, something they didn't expect or had never seen before."

Suddenly, it clicked. What they were trying to get across, what I didn't even realize I had done, what I had behaved like. But no. Even if they were right, I still knew the rule; keep the secret.

"I am a person," I said with a dismissive snort.

"Duh!" said Jesse.

They laughed.

"We weren't suggesting otherwise," said Angelo.

"You're just a weird dude," said Jesse. "No offense intended. People don't know what to make of you in the best of times. And no one would argue that these aren't really your best times."

"No," I said mildly, "they wouldn't."

There was a long silence.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Angelo.

"No," I said quietly, roughly, meaningfully, the only way I could without screaming.

They moved on to talking about school and girls, the things that would occupy the thoughts and minds of the average teenage boy. They were right about one thing; I wasn't that; the average teenage boy. I had stepped into a bigger world, a world of myth and the supernatural. I hadn't realized that I had taken some of that with me, in some small fashion. Even now, I couldn't get away from how much my life had changed since I had come here. But, for the first time, in I didn't know how many months, it didn't seem to bother me so much. It just didn't seem like a bad thing for some reason.

But, it still didn't matter. The ache, raw, soul-stripping pain was still there. Even if this point wasn't so bad, what was a single grain of sand to a beach? It didn't matter. I was still broken. I was still in pain. I was still not good enough.


	4. Chapter 4: Disappearances & Appearances

I was halfway to the house when mom barged out the door. The guys were far enough down the block that they didn't see.

"Where the hell were you?" she nearly exploded.

"Mom," I said, baffled.

"No note," she is nearly raving. "No explanation. No messages. Where's your phone?"

"Oh," I said, realizing that she was right. I hadn't carried my phone with me regularly in months, and I hadn't had to even think about needing to leave her a note in about that long.

"I come home and you're just gone!" she ranted. "You could have been hurt or in the hospital or dead or anything! Where WERE you?!"

"At the movies," I said evenly.

"I-!" she started but was completely derailed. "What?"

"I was at the movies," I said.

She looked at me, then to my truck.

"Who with?" she asked, sounding even more surprised.

"Angelo and Jesse," I said.

She stared at me for so long, I thought about waving my hand in front of her face.

Finally, she let out a big sigh, "I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack, kid."

I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. She was right. I knew it.

"I..." she began again, looking for the right words while her mind shifted gears.

"Look," she said, "I can't really tell you how glad I am that you went out with your friends. I haven't seen you leave the house other than for work or school since... Well, for a long damn time. But, I would appreciate it, in the future, if you would leave me a note."

I nodded and said nothing.

We walked into the house, and I went to the kitchen, getting myself some water and making myself some food that wasn't chalk-full of processed food stuffs and preservatives.

"What gives?" I asked as mom came into the kitchen, getting her own water.

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"I mean," I said as I pulled out some garbanzo bean salad I had made the day before, "I get that you didn't know where I was and all, but your reaction seemed a little... extreme."

She looked at me, her expression careful.

"If I tell you something," she said, "can I have your word you won't repeat it?"

"Sure," I said. What did I care?

"We have a missing hiker," she said. "We found the camp pretty torn up, and some blood. A local in the area claimed they saw a large bear in the area. With you gone, I couldn't help but think you might have decided to cash in on that employee discount and decide to do some impromptu hiking or something. Call it a crazy mom moment. Just, promise me something; no treks into the wild for a while, at least not until we have the situation resolved."

"Okay, mom," I said, completely indifferently.

We didn't really talk anymore. It was technically the most involved and longest conversation we had had since I had gotten my job. We were used to a level of comfortable disconnection, and I had no problem going back to that. I went upstairs shortly after I finished my meal. I did my nightly workout, showered, and went to bed.

That night, my dreams were different.

I was in the dark, unable to see anything. I could feel the ground beneath my feet, but it felt wrong, uneven, and slightly irregular, as though it wasn't really there or solid. I felt around and around, trying to find something that told me where I was, but after what felt like hours, I was nowhere nearer to finding out what was going on. I was about to give up when something hit me. A hard blow, something like a slap, struck me across the face. It was jarring and frighten and as soon as it landed, I reached around again, looked into the darkness, but saw and felt nothing. I was trying to understand what was happening when it landed again, to the other side of my face, even harder. It focused my attention amazingly well, and despite being unable to see and unable to defend myself, I brought up my fists and settled back, ready and waiting. I wasn't afraid anymore.

My alarm woke me. I got up, doing my Saturday routine. It was the same workout, only slightly more, with some extra free weight lifts, some burpees, and timed push-ups, where I would lower or raise with a count of five or ten. I showered and put back on my Saturday clothes, going downstairs to start my load of laundry before breakfast. After starting everything up and my short meal of homemade granola, I did a spot clean of my room, some other cleaning of the rest of the house while the laundry finished up. Rotating it all into the dryer, I was going over in my mind what I would need to do before I headed out the door for work when Mom came over.

"Where are your headphones?" she asked.

"iPod broke," I said. "Haven't had time to fix it yet."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Fishing. Will be back late tonight. Will you be here when I get home?"

I thought about it. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure.

"I don't know," I said. "I'll leave you a message if I'm not going to be."

"Okay," she said, her voice lighter somehow, easier. "Okay. I'll see you when I see you."

She grabbed her gear and disappeared before the dryer was started.

I packed my lunch, grabbed my phone, which was new, along with my usual keys and my wallet. I headed out the door, driving to work at my usual pace.

I was early and got to work before my shift started. Everything was stocked and well cleaned by the time I clocked in.

"Morning," said Mickie, getting in at ten, the time my shift also started. Her dad was usually here at eight or so, and I got there somewhere in between, depending on how much distraction I needed. Today, I felt like new distractions were starting to open up to me, ones I hadn't really considered before.

"Morning," I said, my voice low, indicative of my mood.

Mickie came up short, looking at me. I looked back.

I hadn't paid must attention to Mickie or her wardrobe for the last year. I wasn't sure when exactly she shifted from loose-fit jeans to something more formfitting. The weather didn't allow for much in the revealing clothing department, but she worked well with what she had in fashion, if not in body shape. She was cute enough, but the stretch cotton leggings and sporty sleeveless number she had on were covering a body that was in no way outdoorsy. If anything, her families marginal money had seemed to have a softening effect. It gave her the appropriate amount of curve, but not much in the way of appealing muscle or the sort of bouncy energy I found that I preferred. Her hair was cut and styled well, in a way that made her stand out, accenting her makeup which was thin if a bit too dark for her hair and complexion. All in all, she was attractive, relative to the girl I knew before, but not enough for me to want to do anything about out it, even if that had been an option.

Regardless of what expression was showing on my face, she seemed to find my gaze complimentary. She looked away, her attempts to hide her smile so pitiful, I had no doubt the attempt was feigned. She actually blushed as I kept looking, as though my eyes upon her meant something more than that I was looking at her.

It was slow at work, so for want of anything else to do, I paid attention to Mickie, and she paid attention right back. It was more and more evident that she had picked up some new habits and tricks since the last time she had shown interest in me, and she did everything she could to display that. She walked differently, a bit more sway to her, as though she were trying for graceful or perhaps sensual, maybe even sexual, but it came off as put upon. She spent times in unusual areas, not usual for her. Standing at the counters, slightly leaning over them, playing with a pen between her teeth, one knee bent with her ankles crossed.

About halfway through my shift, for lack of anything to do for the moment, I took a load of broken down boxes to the large recycling dumpster. However, once I got outside, I realized that it was pouring rain. I made the trip quickly, but my outer shirt was pretty wet by the time I came back in.

"Oh no," said Mickie, a slightly pretentious maternal air about her. "No, come on."

At her insistence, she took me to the break room.

"Here," she was saying, pulling out a box they kept in here full of defunct clothing, busted seams, missing buttons, that sort of thing. By the time she had found one that might fit me, she turned back to hand it to me, finding me, having stripped off the wet outer button up short.

The T-shirt I had on underneath it was a bit small on me but was really comfortable. I liked working out in it, especially since it had almost no sleeve, so it kept me cool, and the material was thin so it breathed really well. With the way the dampness from the rain made it cling, I almost might as well not be wearing anything.

Mickie looked like she had forgotten how to breathe for a minute. Her hand was coming up, less than an inch from my bare shoulder when she realized what she was doing and stopped.

"Sorry," she said a bit breathily. She handed me the shirt, I put it on, handing up the wet one on a hanger.

"Um," she said. "Do you want to go to the beach?"

I looked at her, "I'm on shift."

"No!" she said, a bit exasperated, but mostly at herself. "Not now. After work."

"It raining," I said.

"No," she explained. "Weather is supposed to be clear tonight. There's a party out at La Push. It sounds likes a ton of fun."

"When?" I asked. It sounded like a real potential distraction.

"Seven," she said. "Right on the beach, hard to miss."

"I'll go," I said.

"Great!" she said happily. "We're going to have so much fun!"

I shook my head, "I didn't say I was going with you. I just said I would go."

"Oh," she said, looking dejected, "right. Duh! Well, if you want to... you know, hang out or whatever. I'll be there. And all. Yeah."

She practically fled before I had the chance to say another word to her.

The shift continued as expected, including Mickie not saying a single thing to me other than "catch you later" as she walked out the door. I clocked out, finished up some more organizing, then after changing back into my other shirt, I left the defective one behind, I headed out. Once in the parking lot, I texted Mom, let her know where I would be, that I would be home before curfew, then drove to the beach.

I hadn't been to too many parties before, but this was a bit obvious. If they were doing any drink or anything, they were at least keeping it way on the down low, though the rest of the party wasn't. There was like three bonfires going, and at least fifty people, some from school, some from the reservation, and others from the nearby area. Some were near the surf, some by the fires, and some around a barbecue pit that was cooking just off from the parking lot. There were still a few spots available, so I parked my truck and strolled on down.

Lunch had held me over, so I wasn't hungry just yet, but I was a bit thirsty. I strolled over by a cooler, and as I opened it and took out a bottled water, a boy turned around.

"Two bucks for drinks," he said, and I recognized that voice immediately.

"Oh," said Lauren. "It's you."

I handed him a five. He went back to what he was doing.

"My change?" I asked. He looked at me like I was an idiot.

I turned around and took two more bottle water out of the cooler.

"Hey!" he protested. "That's another dollar!"

"Tell it to someone who cares," I said. "Call it asshole tax."

I went to put the extras in my truck, not wanting to carry them all around all night. I was four steps off when he grabbed my arm.

"Hey!" he said, surprised when he kept moving forward rather than me being pulled back. I liked that. I looked the momentary widening of his eyes, the trace of fear stirring in him. I stopped and turned.

He wasn't quite my height. When I had first come here, he had noticeable weight on me. That wasn't the case anymore. I looked at his arm. He gritted his teeth and didn't let go. I dropped the water bottles behind me. Without thinking, he let go and went for them. I slapped up an arm, taking him across the chest. He would have just stumbled backward a step if my foot hadn't come down just behind his foot. He tripped up, landing flat on his back. Before he could get up, I set a foot on his chest.

"Now," I said, feeling strong and powerful as I stood over him, "you were being rude, for no reason. So, I was rude back. We can leave it at that, or we can have a problem. I'm fine either way. I have nothing else planned tonight."

He didn't say anything. I smiled at his inaction. Turning, I picked up my water. I heard the rustling, expecting it, and sidestepped as the handful of wet sand went flying passed me. I looked back and he was already running back to where he was standing before. I shook my head and went back to the truck. When I got back to the beach, he was waiting.

There were five of them, including Lauren. None of them were as tall as I am, but two were heavier. So was a third, but it wasn't in muscle. Only one looked like he was from the reservation, the others weren't from school. Lauren looked smug.

For a moment, I thought about fighting all of them. With my reach, they would have to be pretty determined to hurt me if they were to win. If I showed how indifferent I was to hurting them right off the bat, they would likely be less inclined to do so. I could beat them down, one at a time, and even if I was hurt too, I would hurt them right back and more so. I was better than them. They just didn't know it yet.

"Hey," said one of the boys.

"Hey," I said back, in the same tone and unfazed.

"You're causing trouble," said the boy from the reservation. "Leave. Now."

I looked at him a long moment. I had spent time here as a kid. I might not remember much, but there were something things that you don't really forget. They did things differently here. You see it play out a time or two, you get to understand it.

"I claim a disagreement," I said. "I seek a wise one to settle it."

The boy looked more than a little surprised.

"What are you even talk-" asked another boy.

"Quiet," said the reservation boy.

He gave me a long look, sizing me up.

"Who do you know?" he asked.

"I am Carrie Hawkins' son," I said. "I am a friend of the Black family."

He nodded, "A disagreement with him?"

He jutted his chin at Lauren. I nodded.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Lauren.

"He's calling you out," said the boy. "If I were you, I would stay where I am and not say anything until we ask you."

"He's talking," pointed out Lauren, point to me.

"When he is asked a question," said the boy. "You best learn from his example, and quickly."

He gave a quick, high call, one I had heard before when I had seen a similar disagreement play out. Everyone from the reservation in the area stilled and quit talking. After a moment, a young woman, easily five years older than me, came forward. I recognized her from somewhere.

"What goes on here?" she asked.

"A disagreement, Sam," said the boy. "A wise one was asked for."

She looked surprised, but her face relaxed when she saw me. Odd.

"You called for me," she said to me, "You go first."

That is when I realized where I knew her from. She was the woman who said that the Cullens weren't welcome on the reservation that one night on the beach, almost a year ago. She was tall and broad, strong, wearing less clothing than most of the people here, but not in a promiscuous way. She just wore shorts and the light shirt, the sort of outfit one might wear in warmer weather.

I began.

"I came to this gathering by invitation," I said.

"Who invited you?" she asked.

"Michelle Newton," I said.

She gave a slight shake of her head, "Continue."

"When I arrived, I went to the cooler for a drink," I said and pointed at Lauren. "He informed me that it was two dollars for a drink. When I paid him five, he refused to give me change."

"I was going to-" Lauren started, and Sam grabbed him. It was the fastest thing I had ever seen, if only because the fastest movements I had been present for were faster than I could see. Her hand came up and she grabbed him by the shirt, around the neck. With the one hand, she lifted him so that his feet barely scrabbled against the sand.

"You will get your chance to speak," she said. "Relax and listen. I don't just mean find ways to come up with what to say in return. I mean really listen. This is an opportunity for you to learn something."

She put him down. He looked scared. I felt pleased.

"Listen," she repeated, then turned back to me.

"When he refused to give me change," I said, "I took two more drinks, getting my money's worth."

"More than your money's worth," she commented.

"I do not deny it or justify myself," I said. "I only point out that he wronged me first, and my slight was significantly less than his."

She nodded, "Then?"

"I went to put my drinks in my truck and he grabbed me," I said, "attempted to scare me. I defended myself by tripping him and ending the fight before it began. He threw sand at my retreating back and when I returned, he was waiting with four others to run me off the beach."

She nodded, "Any particular reason you should get to stay?"

I looked at her, "No more than anyone else, no. But more than him."

"Why more than him?" she asked.

I couldn't rightly point out that he was telling everyone about how he had sex with one of the girls down here. It wouldn't sound too much like I was trying to discredit him, and I hadn't heard it from him directly.

I shook my head, "It doesn't have anything to do with our dispute, so I will not bring it up unnecessarily."

She looked like she was considering compelling me to, but then just nodded and turned to Lauren, "What's your side?"

Lauren looked at me much as he did before, like I was an idiot, but now it looked like he thought I was a smelly idiot.

"I know this kid from school, right?" he said. "He thinks he's some kind of badass, too good for anybody. He doesn't talk to anyone and he has all these girls thinking he's all tough. So when he comes down here to a party thrown by people who didn't invite him and start bumming off our drinks without even looking to see if he needs to pay, I fronted like I wasn't going to pay him, for like two seconds. But then, he turns around and steals from us. So, I decide to run him off. He deserves an ass kicking."

She nodded, considering.

"Any particular reason you should get to stay?" she asked.

Lauren looked affronted, "I didn't do anything wrong. He's just an asshole troublemaker and he needs to go."

She looked at me, "Neither of you are clearly in the right. How would you like to resolve this?"

I smiled, "Combat."

Lauren looked scared, "What?"

"Let the victory stand as a resolution," I said. "I will respect it."

Sam nodded, "As would I."

She looked at Lauren, "Single combat. You fight, and whoever wins stays. Or you could walk away right now. But if you do, I will mark you as a coward before the tribe and give you no favor until you seek redemption."

Lauren looked around. Every person from the reservation had come to join us, standing in a wall around us. Other than Lauren and myself, I couldn't see a single outsider from where I stood.

Lauren realized he couldn't talk his way out of it, and decided to go for machismo over backtracking.

"Bring it," he said.

"Okay," Sam said, "Rules are simple. The fight goes on until one of you gives up or can no longer continue. I will judge and claim a winner and the loser will leave immediately. You will not be welcome back here until after sunrise."

I nodded, and Lauren agreed.

"Shoes off," she said.

I popped off my shoes, and without over thinking it, pulled off both my shirts in one fluid motion. I thought I heard a rumble of something like approval or appreciation or weariness move through the crowd. I swung my arms a few times as Lauren followed suit. He was in reasonable shape but was nowhere near as heavy as I was.

The crowd started, cries and whoops tearing through the night air, jeers and wagers lighting all around us. I waited as Sam stepped between us, her hand raised. She stepped aside and dropped it. It was on.

I didn't move, at first. Lauren came at me, and I could tell by his posture that he was all bluster. But he did the most direct thing he could do; and walked right up and took a swing. I had to give it to him, he wasn't nearly as afraid as I thought he would be. It would just make beating his little punk ass down all the more sweet.

I ducked and weaved, the blows coming again and again. He landed a couple punches, but they were sloppy at best. I sneered at him. He had not idea how to throw a proper punch. His wrists weren't straight and he lost a ton of power by throwing nothing but hooks, not a single jab or thrust. He kept going, managing only to splitting my lip and getting me good once in one eye, but not enough to black it.

Finally, he was tired. He had poor form, less reach, less weight, and now, he was tired. My blood was practically humming. He was mine.

I punched him hard in the stomach, underhanded, like I had before. He wheezed, doubling over. I could have taken him apart, ending him right there, but it wouldn't be honorable. I wasn't the weasel he was. I waited for him to straighten up, then I socked him again, a left jab, hard to the face. He staggered back, dazed. I hit him again, and he stumbled around, trying to figure out what to do. Two more body blows, and he was barely up. Then, I tripped him up, again, almost exactly as before. Standing over him, as before, I put a foot on his chest. I hadn't felt this alive in months.

"I told you that you could have left it where it was," I said, so low that not many could hear, languishing in my definitive superiority. "But no, you had to do things the hard way. Well, prepare to learn your lesson."

I turned to the crowd at large.

"This boy is not a friend of the Quileute people," I said looking slowly around. "He boasts at how easily he beds your women and uses you to prop up his own ego when his strength alone cannot win him the day. He has stood here today, and failed."

The crowd was not longer a happy one. It suddenly occurred to me just how ugly this might get. Then, one of the girls came out of the crowd, walked right up to Lauren, and kicked him hard in the crotch. He howled, and the crowd laughed, hooting their approval.

Sam came forward, picking him up and getting his feet under him.

"You aren't welcome on our land anymore," she said. "If you come back here for any reason other than by invitation or come seeking repentance, you will be sorry. Leave. Now."

Lauren was half in tears as he ran back to his car and drove away. I almost felt a little bad for him, but he dug his own grave. Idiot.

"Nice hook."

I turned and froze.

Josie had changed. She was a bit taller, making her only about two inches shorter than me. She had filled out, like really, really well, all lean, athletic muscle and hips and curves. Hell, she had better figures than just about every girl I had seen at my school. And she was looking at me in a way that told me she was doing some ogling of her own.

"Here," she said, and she was holding my shoes and my shirts. She proffered the shoes, but she waited until I got my shoes on before she handed me back the shirts.

"Well, well, well," she said. "Look at what the cat dragged in."

I was too busy looking at her. She was the very definition of eye candy. As distractions went, she was an exceptionally good one.

"Long time, no see," I commented, and she looked amused.

"From what I hear," she said, "you don't get out too often these days."

She knew what was going one with me? Somehow, that didn't surprise me. Our moms were friends, and I found out long ago that they talked about me more than I expected.

"Maybe you should check your sources," I said, a touch of playfulness in my tone.

She smirked, "I'll do that. Before I do, let's get that eye looked after."

It was starting to throb and I knew that I would need ice before it started to swell.

"Here," she said, walking over to the cooler with me in tow. She opened it up and pulled out a chunk of ice. Taking the T-shirt from my hands, she wrapped the ice in it and held it to my face.

"I can do that," I said, trying to pull away from her.

"Pipe down, you big baby," she said, gently dabbing and pressing the shirt.

I looked around with the good eye, "Can we at least sit somewhere?"

"Okay," she said, and we scooted over to sit by one of the fires, on the outskirts. She didn't give up the ice, continuing to hold it to my face once we were seated.

"That was interesting," she said. "How did you know how to call for a wise one?"

"I remembered," I said. "I don't remember much from my time here before, but seeing kids hold their own trial kind of sticks with you."

She laughed, and it was a great laugh, all throaty and edged with toe curling possibilities. I swallowed hard.

"You may be the first outsider I have seen do that," she said. "It was kind of impressive, if a bit sacrilegious."

"Hey," I said, "I couldn't let the asshole get away with it. Pretty much everything he has been doing lately has been crappy as hell. He needs to be held accountable or he'd never learn."

She looked at me, "Do you really believe that?"

I suddenly felt weary.

"Why?" I asked.

"You haven't been making the best life choices either, buddy," she said, my eye throbbing almost as if in evidence.

"That's different," I said a bit dejectedly.

"Is it?" she asked.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," I said petulantly.

"Someone needs to hold you accountable," she pointed out. "How many people are lining up for that?"

I frowned at her, "You know what, screw you! I haven't had a banner year over here."

"We're all going through something," she said, her calm a marked contrast to my response.

"Not like what I went through," I protested.

"Oh," she said, "I see. You're special."

I started to get seriously mad, "I don't need to take this crap from you!"

"And that," she said, "sounds exactly like the sort of notion that got what's his name kicked in the nuts."

I wanted to hit her. I wanted to slap her hand away and leave. I wanted to tell her that she was a stupid, interfering, petty, insignificant... Ugh! But why did she have to be right!?

"So," I asked, "what do you want?"

She bobbed her head back and forth, as though considering.

"We're friends, right?" she asked, looking a little shy almost.

"What?" I asked, a bit affronted. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, really," she said. "We are, aren't we?"

I thought about it. She wasn't just asking if we were friends. It was a loaded question, as though she wanted to know if we were more than simple acquaintances; she wanted to know if she was important to me.

The thing was, she kinda was. I mean, I had known her a long time, and every interaction with her since my return to Forks had been enjoyable, deeply meaningful, or both. There was a part of me that was kicking myself for not coming out here sooner. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with her legs.

"We're friends," I said as I dragged my eyes up to her face, but I could tell she heard the reservations in my voice.

"But..." she coaxed.

"But," I qualified, "it isn't possible for us to be anything more. We can certainly try to be friends, but I can't but be a friend to you. Ever."

She turned her head to the side, towards the ground. It wasn't shy or hurt or anything. She wasn't hiding her expression. She looked thoughtful, and she needed to look at something that wasn't distracting while she thought it over. Finally, she turned back to me.

"I can live with that," she said.

There was something in her face, a sort of winning expression that she was doing a really good job of hiding, but that she couldn't hide from me.

"I'm not going to change," I said.

She smiled, shrugging, "People change all the time."

I shook my head, "I won't."

She smiled more, lounging almost cockily on the beach beside me, still managing to hold the ice to my face. It did all sorts of interesting things to her curves and how her loose clothing hung on her.

"You are welcome to believe whatever you want," she said. "In my experience, what you want has little to do with what you get. I'm not going to hold my breath, but I am not going anywhere either."

Something sort of clicked in my head.

"You're telling me you don't have a boyfriend?" I asked. "You?"

I could tell, she found the question, and my skepticism, extremely flattering. She didn't try to hide it or anything. She just beamed, straightening her clothing a bit, which did more to display everything that she had going on so well that I quickly didn't care if she was doing it on purpose or not.

"No," she finally said, as though so distracted herself that she forgot I asked her a question. She looked as though she was going to say something else, but decided against it.

"What?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Not important."

"No," I returned, "what?"

She shook her head, "I was going to add some cheesy line about crushing on you for a while, but it wouldn't have been appropriate. You just said we are just friends and all, and I want to respect your wishes."

I really didn't know what to say, other than, "Thank you."

She smiled, gently adjusting the ice on my face.

"So," she said, "what have you been up to since we last saw each other?"

I frowned, "I thought you had your own sources."

She suppressed a chuckle, "And I thought you said that I needed to double check them."

I made an exasperated sound in the back of my throat, "Fine. I have been doing well in school, working out-"

"I can tell," she said, a slightly suggestive lilt to her voice.

I stared at her out of my open eye, "You wanna hear this or not?"

She bit her lip before pantomiming zipping her lips shut.

"I got a job," I went on, "working at Newton Outfitters. That's about it. I split my money between doing a little clothes shopping, just to round out my wardrobe, but I mostly have been putting money way for college and such."

She nodded, looking a bit discomfited, "Right, you're probably leaving after the school year is over."

"No," I said. "I am actually planning on going to Pencol."

"Where?" she asked, looking confused.

"Peninsula College," I said. "It's right here in town. In Forks, I mean."

She looked askance at me, "Why?"

I sat a little straighter, and she had to also in order to keep the ice in contact with my face.

"What do you mean, why?" I asked.

"Look," she said, "I don't mean this to sound like I am patronizing you or anything, but seriously, why would you want to say here? I know you're smart. You get really good grades. Hell, I bet you're in honors classes and everything. There isn't a school that wouldn't accept you. If it was a question of money or whatever, I would get that, but I bet there are some great schools that aren't out of state that you could probably get into, no problem. What possible reason could you have for wanting to stay h-"

I got up. I had had enough.

"Hey," she said as I turned and started walking for my truck.

"I still have your shirt," she pointed out.

"Keep it," I said.

"Benjamin Hawkins," she said, "if you don't stop right now and explain yourself, I am fully prepared to tackle you."

For a moment, I seriously considered letting her. It sounded like a interesting idea. But, in the end, I turned back to her.

"What?" I said.

"That's my line," she said. "What?"

I shook my head, "You don't get to judge my decisions."

"Not judging," she said. "A whole lot of not judging is going on over here. I am just trying to understand. What you are doing makes no sense to me. I just want to know why."

"I don't need to make sense to you," I shot back.

"That's true, I guess," she said. "But if I am going to be your friend, it might help if you trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

I looked at her, standing there, not exactly contrite, despite my tirade. She wasn't telling me what to do, or even really telling me the way things were. She wanted to be friends, and friends were honest with each other.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said. "I... I'm still really, really messed up."

She looked at me, and the most heartrending look of empathy crossed her face. I looked away so I could continue.

"Look," I said, "A lot of what I am doing right now isn't really a choice. I mean, it sucks; I am damned if I do and damned if I don't, so I am doing a whole lot of picking the lesser of two evils here. I am not really thinking it terms of what is best for me so much as choosing what is the least painful. I am not thinking too hard about anything, and I don't really feel like justifying my actions to myself or explaining them to anyone else. This is just who I am right now, for however long I am this way. Is that... can that just be how it is, with me? Is that okay?"

She took my hand. It was warm and soft, despite being rough. I felt a rush in me, a desire to be doing more than just standing here, letting her hold my hand. It was very, very distracting.

"Yeah," she said. "Of course. Look, Ben, I get it. It sucks, and coping is hard. But look, you don't have to be or do anything for me. At all. I want to be here for you because I think you're a good person and you're worth my time. But that in no way obligates you to be okay or normal or have to explain anything to me. I was wrong to come after you like I did. But, can I ask you something?"

"What?" I said, feeling marginally better.

"Come back," she said.

I looked about me, confused, "I'm still here."

"No," she said, laughing, "I mean, when you do leave, for whatever reason. Come back again. If you need to bail, you can totally bail. Just, when you can, come back. I want to be your friend. I've always wanted that. And, I think I could be a good friend to you."

I nodded, but it wasn't an agreement so much as an acknowledgment of what she said.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

"Okay," she said. "Okay."

He fingers slipped from mine, letting me go with an only barely noticeable reluctance.

As I was driving home, I thought about what she said. I hadn't been friends with anyone for a long time, hanging out with Angelo and Jesse notwithstanding, and a part of me knew that it was because I didn't want to fulfill the demands a friendship might entail. At some point, whoever was friends with me would expect me to start living up to my end of what being friends meant, and I really didn't want to deal with any of that. Besides, there was a part of me, and I wasn't sure how committed to that part I was, that believed that if I wasn't miserable... if I was capable of being happy without...

I shook my head. The most important part of my life was gone. Without it, all I could do was cope. And I was under no obligation to cope in any way but the best way that I knew how. Josie was very distracting, and I felt like I could at least be honest with her, even if she didn't really want to hear... no, that wasn't it. I could be honest with her, even if what I had to say wasn't what she wanted to hear. She would take the good with the bad. She would accept all the broken bits of me. And that thought was dangerously appealing.


	5. Chapter 5: Cycles

The next week went as expected. I left my broken iPod at home, and I ate my lunch in the cafeteria again. While I didn't do much looking around, I found a table the was routinely empty that became my usual spot, to which Jesse and Angelo started joining me, along with Angelo's girlfriend Brenda and Mickie by the end of the week.

Mickie didn't really talk to me much outside of work. I got the impression that she was not happy with the fact that I didn't spend time with her at the party, but when it was just the two of us at work with no one else around, she kept trying to catch my eye and get me to look at her the way she imagined I had that Saturday. It didn't really bother me, mostly because she didn't matter enough to bother me, and there were times that I did look. Sometimes I needed the distraction. But mostly, I just let her activities slide, and she didn't seem to care if I ignored her. After all, she wasn't doing anything for my benefit, so why should my response matter at all?

I spent an inordinate amount of time, whenever I wasn't occupied with other things, thinking about Josie. It was sort of irritating how much I wanted to go see her, not at all in a romantic way or anything. I just wanted to be where she was, for no discernible reason I could see. It bugged me because I was having a really hard time coming up with an excuse to come see her. And it wasn't until Saturday that I had my answer.

That Saturday was a rarity. I usually worked a full or a half day on Saturday and a half day or had the day off on Sunday. But once in a long while, I would get a full day off on Saturday, usually because there was a big convention that Mr. Newton wanted to go to or because there was some activity somewhere else in Washington that drew most of the outdoorsy types so we didn't bother opening, things of that nature. I didn't ask too much. I had asked if he was willing to give me a key and let me open and shut the store myself, but he would just as soon not pay me when he knew there wouldn't be any business. I thought about offering to do so without pay, but that was even less likely to happen.

So, I had a whole Saturday ahead of me with nothing to do. My chores came and went. I had already looked after the lawn that month. I had done a Saturday workout. I was thinking about driving to Seattle or Port Angeles, for want of anything else to do, but that didn't sound all that appealing. So, I was just driving around town, looking for something, anything to do, wondering why I wasn't already heading to Le Push, when it happened.

I was driving aimlessly when I spotted something really out of the ordinary, right in the Markses' driveway. It was two motorcycles. There was a sign that read "For Sale, as is". I parked beside them and got out.

Motorcycles really weren't my thing. I had gotten a lot better with things like balance and klutziness since I had started working out, but I wasn't good enough that I was prepared to start driving around at sixty on something with no metal frame around me for my protection, when the weather was damp and often raining nine days out of ten. As I was looking at them, something started to occur to me. I couldn't fight someone every week. As awesome as that was, it wasn't exactly like fights just dropped in your lap every other day. If I wanted that thrill, I would have to start picking them soon, and that was not a path that I was willing to take. If I wanted thrills, motorcycles might just offer me something I could work with. Besides, if mom ever found out, she'd kill me. Just the thought of doing something ruthless and a little reckless was enough to make my limbs quiver with anticipation.

The problem was, I was pretty sure from the state of them that they didn't work, and if I started trying to put them back together myself, something I had no confidence at all that I was capable of doing, I was pretty sure mom might figure out what I was doing if I started keeping motorcycles around the house. I had to stash them somewhere, somewhere I could find a way to work on them. And I thought I knew just the place.

"Hey!"

I looked up. The youngest of the Marks, a freshman, I think, was standing in the yard.

"Hey!" I said back. She looked agreeable and eager to please.

"How much for the bikes?" I asked.

"If you want them," she said, "take them. My Dad had enough of my mom trying to fix them up and said that she wanted a project, she should choose one that she could actually finish. They are going out with the trash if someone doesn't take them."

"Excellent," I said. I opened the bed of my truck, rolling the heavier of the two up to it.

"Do you want help?" she asked. "I could go get my dad."

"No," I said, not wanting to have more parents around then I could help. "I got it."

I actually did. It took lifting one end and then the other, but I was able to get first one and then the other in without too much trouble. She looked impressed.

"Hey," I said, a bit conspiratorially, "can I ask you something?"

She caught on, her tone matching mine as she asked, "What?"

"Could you perhaps," I said, "not mention this to your parents? I don't want you to lie to them or anything, but could you just not mention that I was the one who took them?"

She was agreeable.

"Sure," she said almost graciously, "No prob."

I was in Le Push less than half an hour later. Naturally, given how loud my engine was and the fact that she knew it well, Josie was already in the yard before I could put it in park. She was wearing some cutoff jeans that came to mid-thigh, an over-sized T-shirt that had both sleeves and some of the lower hem cut away, and what looked like a neon strapless bikini top underneath.

"Hey," she said, a genuine enthusiasm to her. "I could get used to this."

"That's the idea," I said.

"Huh?" she said, somehow managing to look pleased and confused at the same time. It was sort of adorable.

I looked around, again conspiratorial, then tilted my head to the bed of the truck.

"Wow," she said, sounding awed and young. "Where did you get those?"

"I could tell you," I said, "but then I would lose that whole mysterious thing I got going on."

"Mysterious?" she said.

"Yeah," I said. "You know? Guy, comes back from your past, is damaged, then one day, he comes bearing motorbikes."

She laughed, "Why did you bring them?"

"Two reasons," I said. "One, my mom would absolutely kill me if they were discovered in my possession. And two, they don't exactly run."

"Oh," she said, knowingly, "so you brought them here and figured you could charm me into fixing them up for you?"

"I thought I would ask first," I said, "but I could give charming a shot. I am not exactly great at it."

"You might be surprised," she said. "Well, if you want them hidden from Carrie, I suggest we move them on in before my mom sees them."

We managed to work the two bikes off the truck and around the trees to the makeshift garage the Blacks had without coming in view of the house. We made room for them and as soon as we had them set up, Jose went straight to work.

"These are actually kind of nice," she said, bent over one, affording me a very nice look at her cut-off shorts and her shapely legs.

"Nice?" I asked, distracted.

She gave me a sly look over her shoulder, straightening up, "Yeah, this is a Honda XL 250 and that one is a Harley Sprint. If we get them up and running, they might actually be worth something. These are a great find. How much did they cost you?"

"Nothing," I said.

She looked sidelong at me, "Nothing? These cost you nothing?"

"Yep," I said, feeling rightfully smug.

"You are..." she stammered, "are... not cool, man! Just not cool!"

"What can I say?" I quipped. "I lead a charmed life."

She gestured to the car that was taking up the other half of the garage. With the way it's hood was up and engine parts were settled around it on table tops, I was pretty sure that it didn't run either.

"I have been trying to get my Rabbit going for more than a year," she said, "scrapping by on junk yard parts and you pull thousands of dollars worth of hardware out of nowhere. Are you kidding me?"

She threw a dirty rag at me. I barely had to sidestep in order for it to miss me.

"They don't exactly run," I said, "which it where you come in. I don't have a lot of spare cash, but I can pay you-"

"No," she said shaking her head, her expression somewhere between distaste and hurt. "Don't do that. I want to help."

I sighed, "Okay, but I am paying for parts at least. Hell, if it isn't costing me a thing to get two motorcycles up and running, I would be taking advantage."

A speculative look crossed her face but vanished.

"Okay," she said, "I guess that's okay."

"So," I said, "What will we need?"

"Let's see," she said, and this time when she knelt beside the bikes, she did so in a comfortable, well practiced sort of way that, while it wasn't bending provocatively over the motorcycles, did afford me some interesting glimpses up or down her shirt as she moved around them, as well as some very enticing looks at her abs and taut back muscle. She starting pulling things apart with an ease and confidence that was all the more impressive for just how understated it was. When she was in her garage, doing what she enjoyed, she was in her zone and wasn't trying to be impressive or engaging. Somehow, it made me more impressed and engaged than if she had been doing the whole provocative thing... okay, maybe not more... maybe...

"We might be able to get most of the parts we need in town," she said. "If we're lucky, we might only need to order a few of them online, but that all depends on what we find. I guess we'll have to organize a trip out there."

"I have time right now," I said, preparing to stand.

"Whoa," she said, "hold up there. I haven't even finished looking here. Jeez. We are going to be a while. If you need something to do, lay this out for me."

She offered over a large section something that had many pieces. I was immediately daunted.

"Uh," I said, "I wasn't joking when I said that I have no idea how to do this."

"Neither did I," she said. "At first. But for this, it is easy. Pick any spot of rag laid out on the back table. If you need to unscrew something, all the tools are along that wall. If there are multiples of a single part, keep each part and its components together. Lay things out left to right, smallest to largest. Try not to lose anything. Don't force anything. If it looks too complicated for you or you don't want to do something for one reason or another, just leave it, and I will handle it later."

I could feel my hands wanting to start shaking.

"I don't know," I said reluctantly.

"Here," she said. She stood, pretty much putting the thing in my hands so that there was no way I could avoid taking it without dropping it. She took my arm and guided me over to the next empty section of the old sheets that lined the tables. She took the thing out of my hands and set it down, rotating it so that the most parts were visible. She stepped around me, so close that I could feel her warmth and softness brush against me, and I felt something stir in me that stilled me at the same time, lest I do something I might not be able to take back. She took down a bunch of tools from the wall.

"Start with these," she said, coming up beside me and setting the tools down. "If you can't get it take apart with these, leave it be. You can use some of these, or all of these, or all of them and then get more if you can recognize them, or if want me to get them for you, or anything. Really, there are no wrong answers here. If you break something or lose something, no biggie. It was probably broken in the first place. These parts aren't super delicate or anything. Just don't go pounding on them and they'll be fine. Just try."

We were standing hip to hip, closer than I had allowed anyone to get to me since I had been back from Phoenix, other than my mom needing to help me with my broken leg, other than her taking my hand the week before. She was so close, I almost had to open my arms, shift around to make space for her. She felt comfortable there, I could tell, and I was just as surprised to realize that I felt comfortable with her there too. I was suddenly wildly torn between feeling like a betrayer and wanting to put my arm around her shoulders, my other hand at her hip, slowly pushing her until the small of her back met the table, leaving her nowhere else to go, my eyes on hers, questioning...

I settled for doing nothing. I took up one of the tools, feeling inexplicable guilt come shooting out of nowhere.

"You got this," she said encouragingly. She moved to a paper bag next to the table leg nearest to the door, taking out a soda can.

"If you're thirsty," she said, "help yourself."

I started working. I matched tools to bolts and screws, or whatever, and start dismantling the thing. It was pretty much entirely smeared with old grease and there was no way to do it and remain clean. After ten minutes, I quit caring. She brought her own similarly indecipherable chunk of machinery over and started to work beside me, casting covert and reassuring smiles at me, and after a while, I didn't even feel guilty anymore.

Watching her work was fascinating. She was doing the same things she had told me to do, but with a speed and efficiency that was really remarkable. She worked more than twice as fast as me, and with neater lines of parts, and without even having to think about it.

"I gotta say," I said, sliding haphazardly out of my button up, trying to get it off and drape it somewhere without getting it greasy or dirty or both, "I'm impressed."

"You should be," she said. "I am impressive, after all."

I snickered, "And so modest, too!"

"I am what I am," she said, almost smugly. "Besides, you're humble enough for the both of us."

"I don't know," I said. "I used to be. I mean, I'm not boasting about myself or anything, but I'm not about denying what I am or want anymore."

"So," she said, "what do you want?"

I came up short. What did I want?

"I want to finish school," I said, "go to PenCol, get a degree, probably in business or literature, then maybe open a bookstore in town."

She looked at me with a look of utter shock.

"What?" I asked at the same time she said, "Really?"

We repeated the words, overlapping a second time, louder.

"You could do anything and you want to open a bookstore?" she sounded almost mad.

"That's right!" I said back. "It's my life, _mom_!"

"Don't do that!" she said. "You said that I don't have to understand and I don't, but it's hard! Real hard! How can you stand having such a low opinion of yourself?! Don't you want more!?"

Then, something flipped. I wanted to put my fist through the wall. I wanted to kick the nearest bike over. I wanted to scream. In the barest, last inch of control I had, I looked into her eyes and watched them broaden for a moment but maintain their own intensity.

"Of course I want more!" I said in a low hiss. "I wanted so much more. I wanted... I wanted everything. But I didn't get a choice! It all got dashed, taken away from me! So don't act like it's my fault that this is what I got stuck with!"

"You didn't get stuck with this!" she said back. "You don't get to choose what life gives you. You get what you get. You decide what to do with it! You can blame others for what they took from you, but if you stay here and do so little with your life, that's on you!"

I went for her. It wasn't really a conscious impulse. I wasn't sure what I was doing. Part of me thought I was going through her to the door behind her. Part of me thought I was going to grab her arms and shake. Part of me thought about shoving her down on the floor. What I didn't expect was for her to come at me with equal ferocity and suddenly have her lips on mine.

Her eyes were wide locked on mine, as shocked as mine no doubt were too. For a fraction of a second, neither of us moved.

It felt very different, even in stillness. She was so warm, so soft, and I could feel her tremble under me, either unsure or brimming with a desire I couldn't deny I felt too. A sudden flash bloomed through me, an image of us against the wall, next to the door, us parting our kiss and our bodies just enough for shirts to come off-

Like a knife slicing, pain washed through me, grief and guilt and regret and resentment. I pulled away.

"Oh god," she whispered. "Ben. Ben, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

I was running. I tripped in the yard.

"Ben!"

I got up. I could feel the tears. I couldn't stop. I couldn't anything.

"Ben!" she cried. "I'm sorry!"

She didn't try to stop me. She couldn't have.

The truck roared. So did I. I got off the reservation before I pulled over, unable to see or continue.

What the hell was wrong with me?!

My phone rang. I looked. It was her. I ignored the call. It rang again. I ignored it. On the fourth call, I silenced the damned thing.

How could I have been so stupid?! Josie was supposed to be just a distraction, but not... not THAT distracting!

I didn't realize that I was blaming anyone, but I guess I was. How could I not!? It wasn't my fault that I was feeling what I did now, that I was alone and pissed off and hurt and doing everything I could to cope. It was too much. It also wasn't enough.

The tears finally stopped. My fingers were on my lips. They felt sort of numb, sort good, like pleasant Novocain or something. Then I remembered how dirty my hands were and spit out the window. I looked up. It wasn't even dusk yet. I turned around and drove back. She was in the yard, again, looking as though she was trying not to appear frantic.

"You came back," she said.

"You said I could," I replied.

"Yeah," she said, looking more relaxed.

"I meant it," she said. "It was stupid and selfish."

"What?" I said.

Her face blanched, "You didn't get my message?"

"No," I answered.

She looked confused, "Then, why?"

I kissed her. She made a sound, a sound like surprised, maybe a moment of protest. I didn't care. She was a bit heavy in my arms, feeling dense, strong upon my arms that curved around the small of her back. After what seemed a really long moment, she pushed back.

"No," she said, "you can't do that."

She sounded frantic again, somehow unfocused.

"What?" I asked stepping closer to her. "You kissed me before."

"And I shouldn't have," she said, trying very hard to keep her voice even. "I took advantage."

"Do it again," I said. "Use me, I don't care. You feel..."

She looked so frustrated, I could see the beginnings of tears.

"That's not fair," she almost cried. "That's damned unfair. I don't want that."

"Want what?" I asked, stepping forward again. She stepped back.

"It was empty," she said. "Hollow. You weren't kissing me. You were just kissing. I could have been any girl."

"But you're not," I said. "You more than just some girl."

"That's not enough for me," she said. "Don't you get it. I want to be more than convenience to you. That, what happened before, was a moment of weakness. I hope there isn't another, especially if you're going to respond like this. You don't want me. You just want someone. Getting to be with you would be amazing. Hell, it's sort of everything I want right now. But it can't be like that. I can't be worth so little. I just can't. I'm worth so much more, dammit."

She wasn't crying. Tears were flowing but she wasn't crying. She was frustrated and passionate and beautiful in how alive she was. And she was right. And it made me want to kiss her again. And it made me feel like enough of an ass not to.

"I owe you an apology," I said, looking down.

"I don't want to keep score," she said. "Let's just let it go."

"No," I said. "I mean, I don't want to forget it. But yeah, nobody's perfect."

She got this glint in her eye but smiled. I smiled too.

"Come on," she said. "We're almost done. Then, we can plan a trip to the junkyard."

"Okay," I said. "But, before that..."

"What?" she asked.

As my arms came out, she looked as though she was considering fighting me. I just hugged her to me, and after a moment, she relaxed.

"I am sorry," I said.

"Sure, sure," she said, almost nestling into me.

"Well hello there!" a female voice called.

Josie nearly knocked me over she pushed back so hard.

"Whoa," she said, and we half caught each other as we stumbled.

Two girls were walking towards me. They looked like sophomores, but it was hard to tell. I mean, Josie could probably walk into some bars without needing to be carded.

"Hey," said the other once they were closer. "I'm Amber. This is Quinn. And you must be Ben."

Josie's face was redder than I would have thought possible.

"What are you two doing?" asked Quinn, her words meaningful.

"Nothing," growled Josie.

"Didn't look like nothing," said Quinn.

"I think I'll take off," I said, and Josie looked immediately distressed.

"No, come on," said Amber. "We don't bite!"

"Seriously," said Quinn, "what were you doing?"

"Working in the garage," I said.

Josie sort of asked me with her eyes if I would stay, I relented and she smiled again. I couldn't but smile back. She walked for said garage and we followed.

"Whoa!" said Amber. "Josie, are these yours?"

"Their Ben's," she said, proud yet defensive. It took me a minute to realize that both those emotions were directed at them about me.

"Nice," Quinn said, fighting a smile. "So, no riding yet?"

"I'll kick you out," said Josie.

I was confused.

"Okay, okay," said Quinn. "It's not like I said-"

Amber let slip a string of syllables that were liquid and guttural, rather beautiful.

"Hey," said Josie, "that's rude. Come on."

She turned to me, "She was just saying to back off, more or less."

"More or less?" I asked.

She turned red again, "Yeah."

They began complaining about school, some social interactions between people I had never heard of, with some overtones of tribe life that I couldn't really culturally understand. And that was okay. It was nice. I couldn't remember the last time I had been around that many girls, especially who seemed so comfortable having me there. A lot of that had to do with Josie. Every time I felt like I was just sort of standing around, contributing as much to the conversation as the rest of the inanimate objects, she would look at me and smile or throw me a soda, or make some other expression that sort of hinted at the idea that she would enjoy it just as much, at times maybe more, if it was just us, that I was important to her. I had to not think about it too much, otherwise, I thought I might bolt.

Finally, when night was beginning to fall in earnest, I stood straighter, hungry and wanting to get out of here.

"You'll leaving?" asked Quinn, inexplicably pouty.

"Yeah," I said, only glancing at her, turning the brunt of my attention to Josie. "I need to eat, and, you know, not be drowning in estrogen."

Amber laughed.

"What, you're not man enough for the three of us?" asked Quinn sassily.

Suddenly, the corner of my mouth quirked. I bit the small portion of my lower lip, thoughtfully.

"Hmm," I murmured, speculating. They all became very quiet.

I started towards Quinn, slowly, not hesitantly, just steadily. She sat slowly back in the lawn chair she was sitting in, her eyes growing wide with my approach. I leaned in, placing my hands on each of her armrests while her hands curling themselves together in her lap. She looked torn, wanting desperately to do something, but not wanting to move. I placed my face directly in front of hers.

"What do you think?" I asked, putting not an ounce of intent behind the rhetorical question.

Smiling, I straightened, turning back to Josie, an almost playful smile on my face, showing her that I was joking. She was rather deadpan. She didn't move as I stood, starting for the door. Finally, I said, "I guess I'll see you around, girls. Josie."

I was through the door, it closing behind me when one of them said, "Yeah, you said he was single?"

I thought I heard some kind of scuffling before the door closed all the way. I was to my truck when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Hey," Josie said, coming up to me.

I turned, smiling, "What's up?"

"When will I see you again?" she asked,

"You're seeing me now," I quipped.

"No," she almost groaned. "I mean, when will I see you next?"

"What?" I teased. "So you can tell Quinn?"

She looked decidedly unhappy.

"She likes you," she almost a growled.

I laughed, "No one wants to open that can of worms."

She looked like she was going to say something, but then decided to say, "She's not the sort of girl who gives up easy."

Something about the way she said it made me ask, "What about you?"

She looked more than a little jumpy, "What about me what?"

"Do you give up easy?" I asked, and even I could hear the unconscious suggestion in my voice.

"Ben," she said, as though looking for words. "What you want and what I want aren't the same things."

I considered, "Maybe we should just meet in the middle."

She chuckled, "Yeah, but you wouldn't."

"What?" I asked, "What do you mean?"

She smiled at me, and it made me pay attention to her lips.

"You aren't interested in the risk," she said. "Anything risky would make you vulnerable, and you can't be real with me without being vulnerable. I know you, but that is just surface stuff, little things, things I can see and touch."

"Hmm," I sort of hummed in the back of my throat.

She cocked her head to one side, eyebrows raised, pressing her lips and waiting for me to finish. I shut up.

"I can't know you unless you are willing to be vulnerable and honest," she said. "What you want would be... enjoyable."

She couldn't meet my eyes for a moment, her eyes on my chest but I wasn't sure if she was even really seeing me, "Very enjoyable. So enjoyable, I might just be willing to give in, to have you in any way that I can, just so long as I have something."

She looked back at me, "But that would suck. I mean, it would be hot and heavy and tons of fun, but it would be meaningless, a lie. I don't want to live like that. I deserve better. And, you know what? You do too."

I felt like something had been ripped open inside of me. It felt like she had just ripped large quantities of scab and scar tissue off of my heart. I flinched as my chest gave an all mighty squeeze, a broken bottle shards scraping past each other as I clenched in on myself.

Stuff it down, making it not matter, think of something else, anything else. Be away, be not here, stop, ignore, run. Hide.

"I can't," I said. "I'm not- Look, it just isn't..."

She hugged me. I am not sure if it made me feel better or worse. It was too mixed up for me to tell.

"Go," she whispered. "It's okay. You can come back when you're ready. I won't go anywhere."

I did come back. It wasn't the next day like I had thought before we had parted. On the ride home, I felt so hollowed by everything, I couldn't have gone back if she had sent me topless pictures with a can of whipped cream in her cleavage. It took me a week to get up the nerve to come back.

We went to the junkyard, and she dealt with the owner like they were old friends, which, given how well she seemed to know her way around, they might have been. We got lots of really greasy parts that she seemed thrilled over and shored up the last few things we would need off eBay. I spent Saturdays afternoons or nights or Sundays with her for several weeks, and after that first time, we hardly ever saw Quinn and Amber, if only when I was about to leave or just getting there.

It was one such Sunday, while she was putting back together one of the few disassembled bits, one that had been cleaned and had parts all replaced, when she looked over at me and said, "Ben, why are you here?"

I looked up from her hands as they moved steadily over what she was working on.

"Huh?" I asked.

She smiled at my response but became serious again.

"What would you say if I told you I couldn't fix these bikes?" she asked.

"Can you?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, "but that isn't the point."

"Seems pretty pointy to me," I said. "What are you asking me exactly?"

"Ben," she said, "you being here isn't up to me. You are welcome here, but you're the one coming here week after week, working towards something your mother would frown upon."

That was putting it mildly.

"It's all good fun to me," she said, "but what is it to you?"

I snorted, "It sounds an awful lot like you are asking me about 'our relationship'."

I added air quotes if the sarcasm wasn't enough to tip her off about my teasing intent.

"God forbid," she joked. "No, see, if I was asking about our relationship, I would want to know what I would be getting out of it. I already know and I am not asking for more. I am asking what you are getting out of it."

"I am here because I want to be here," I said, maybe a little defensively.

She thought about that, "So, are you here for me or the bikes?"

I frowned, "Does it matter?"

She nodded, "I think it is important that you know, whether or not you tell me."

I thought about it for a few minutes as she kept working.

"I guess I don't know," I admitted.

She gave me a long look.

"Are you just saying that so I'll leave you alone?" she asked.

I laughed, "No."

"Okay," she conceded.

There was another minute of quiet.

"You know," she said. "You don't need to make excuses to come see me. You can just come see me."

I shook my head, "It isn't like that."

"Oh?" she asked. "What's it like?"

"I told you," I said. "I am just doing things to do them because the alternative is too..."

"What?" she asked.

I took a long breath, "Painful."

"It's your life," she said. "It is your right and responsibility to make the best decision you can at the time. I won't hold that again you. But, at what point are you just holding on to something that isn't there anymore simply because you're afraid who you'll be without it?"


	6. Chapter 6: Fear and Drives

"Hey Ben," said Mr. Newton. "I was just wondering how you're doing."

I looked over at him as I finished up the last of my restocking, eager for my shift to be over. Half days on a Saturday were becoming something like a treat for me. What made me all the more eager was that the motorbikes were almost done.

"I'm fine, sir," I said, wishing that he would leave me alone so I could finish this up and get home.

"You're good?" he asked. "You aren't angling for a raise or anything?"

"I'm sorry, sir?" I questioned.

"I just noticed that you don't stay late anymore," he said. "Especially on weekends. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the extra work you used to do. But now that you aren't doing it as much, I am spending a lot more time doing the work myself and... anyway, you're not trying to get me to make some under the table agreement or anything?"

"No sir," I said, turning back to my work.

"Huh," he said. "I see. Okay. I guess, enjoy the rest of your shift."

I looked up. It was over. I thought he was trying to be funny. He made little jokes like that ever once in a while.

"Thank you, sir," I said, finishing what I was doing and heading for the door.

I checked my phone on the way out. I had one text message and one voice message.

 **Ben. Let me know if you aren't spending the afternoon with Josie. Mom.**

It made me fight a laugh whenever I got texts from her. She always put them in the format of a letter, even for a single sentence.

I checked the voice message.

"You have one new message. 'They're done.' End of message."

They were done! I was positively flooring it, at least relatively speaking. It meant that I was approaching the speed limit as I entered La Push. I slowed down as I came towards the house, not wanting to skid to a halt and draw even more attention. As soon as I stopped, I bolted around the house. She was there before I got to the garage, the bikes hidden from view, ready to load them into the truck. I grabbed her about the waist, spinning her around.

"You're awesome!" I cried as I put her down. She didn't seem to want to be let go.

"I know," she said. "Hurry, let's get them out of here."

"Where are we going?" I asked as we loaded them in. She seemed to be moving them around with as much easy as I was able to.

"The back roads," she said. "They aren't paved and are hardly used. It won't suck so bad if you fall over."

"That's good," I said, inwardly cringing. I had never been on a motorcycle before. Heck, I had barely ridden on a bike in like ten years. This wasn't exactly going to be easy.

We loaded into the truck.

"Man," she laughed. "I never thought I would ever be back in this rust bucket."

"Hey," I said warningly, "no knocking my truck."

"It was going to be my truck," she pointed out.

"So," I said. "It's mine now. How would you feel if I was talking crap about the Rabbit?"

"It might bug me," she considered, "it what you were saying wasn't true."

I reached across the truck. I didn't know what I was doing. I just reached over and poked her in the ribs. The way her loose shirt fell, I couldn't exactly see where my finger was aimed, and I ended up touching bare skin instead of cloth. I wasn't sure who was more surprised, her or me. She did jump hugely in the confined space, letting out a yelp.

"Hey," she said, her face going a little red. "I... Uh... Huh."

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"Well," I said. "That was a little unexpect- Ah!"

Someone ran across the road in front of us. It was a blur, running so fast it seemed like they could have outran the truck. I steered sideways, straightening out, the bikes sliding in the back. We stopped half off the road.

I looked out the windshield to see Quinn standing most of the way to the tree line. She stood there looking at us, and it actually took me a moment to realize it was her. Before, when I had seen her, she looked happy, bubbly at times, wearing decidedly frilly outfits and her long waves of silken hair styled and jostling. Now, she looked hard, her lips pressed thinly in her makeupless face. Her hair was cut so short, there wasn't enough to slip behind an ear. She wore a simple pair of torn jean shorts and a bedraggled T-shirt. She looked almost angry, but her expression was also painful, resentful. She stared at me and Josie one more moment, then stepped into the trees and was gone.

"What was that?" I asked.

Josie didn't say anything. After a moment I glanced over, and there were tears in her eyes, but her expression was far closer to Quinn's than showing any signs of crying.

"Whoa," I said, having the strangest urge to reach out and take her hand, "Josie...what wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, gritting her teeth and looking away. "Let's just go."

"No," I said insistently. I gripped her shoulders and turned her towards me. "What's wrong?"

Something in her seemed to break. She slipped her seat belt and pulled me to her, her embrace strong and her touch hot.

"It's... It's Quinn," she said.

"What about her?" I replied.

"Did I ever tell you about Sam?" she asked.

"No," I said, recalling the stout, Amazonian woman to mind. "What about her?"

"A couple of years back," said Josie, "she started this like gang or something. At first, it was just her. She was running around, telling people what's what, acting as a Wise Person even though see was like than half the age of the youngest elder. Then, after a while, Paula and Karen joined. They are so weird, running around, acting tough and unruly, but suddenly they have the Elders on their side. They attend council meetings and they seem to be treated as though they were something special for no reason. I saw Paula nearly take down this really dumb jock who was totally asking for it, broke his nose and everything, and she wasn't punished at all. Not even community service, nothing. It's like they have the full support of the tribe and they can do no wrong."

"That sounds messed up," I agreed.

"That's just it," she said. "It isn't though. Like I am not all thrilled with them getting cart bonk or whatever, but they are doing some really good stuff too. Like Sam ran this dealer off the res a few months back who was dealing meth to kids. It's like their protectors almost, but they're scary too. Paula looks at people half the time like she's thinking about killing them. These aren't toothpick girls either. They are pretty strong. I once saw Sam carrying driftwood off the beach when she thought no one was around, and she easily had a chunk that was close to eighty pounds slung over one shoulder like it was nothing."

I blinked. I couldn't tell, not while in the truck, but Quinn might have looked bigger than I remembered her. I was used to seeing her in heels and I didn't remember seeing shoes on her at all just then.

"What does this have to do with Quinn?" I asked.

She looked at me, looking almost scared now. I immediately drew her closer, wanting desperately to do or say something to make her laugh and smile and be the Josie I had spent so much time with lately. No one so good deserved to look so destitute.

"She joined their gang," she said. "I don't know how or why, but a couple of weeks ago, she just stopped coming around. She wouldn't return my calls. She was never at home. Amber and I tried everything. It wasn't until a few days ago that we found out what happened. Now that we know where to look, we can catch glimpses of her. And that's what we see. She isn't her anymore. She cut her hair. Her mom says she keeps find her nice clothes tore up and thrown away. She doesn't explain anything. She's with Sam now."

"I'm so sorry," I said, wanting to do something, say something. Anything I think of is either selfish or unhelpful.

"That's not the part that worries me," she said, drawing back to look into my eyes. "Sam has been watching me. I can't put my finger on it, but whenever I am near her, like that party were you kicked that jerk's ass, she just keeps an eye on me, like she's waiting for something. She's not the only one. All the Elders are, even my mom. When I asked her about it, she said I didn't need to worry. She said that when the time comes, I'll figure it out. Otherwise, she'll tell me when I'm older. What sort of sense does that make?"

I couldn't seem to feel close enough to her. She felt really good next to me, hot and solid and real, but her face was still so grave. I wanted to hold her to me, to drown away her fear, and comfort her in a way that I wasn't sure how to do anymore.

"I don't know what's happening," she said. "I don't want to turn into one of the pod people. I don't want to turn my back on... my friends. I don't want to lose..."

"That will never happen!" I said emphatically, a little too loudly in the confining cab. "I won't let it. You can run away if you have to. You can... stay at my place. My mom won't mind. We'll figure it out."

I suddenly realized that I was frantic with the idea of losing her. Just thinking about it hurt. I couldn't bare for it to happen.

She smiled a somewhat watery smile at me, "Thanks, Ben. I'm probably just making too much of this. I just don't like the idea of not having a choice, ya know?"

I did know. I knew all too well. I would give just about anything to have what I wanted to be an option. Even if it still didn't happen, at least a chance...

But no. Josie had been right before.

"You don't get to choose what life gives you," I said. "You just have the right and the responsibility to do the best with what's given to you."

She looked at me, playfully incredulous, "Really? You really just did that? Really? Okay."

"Okay what?" I said.

"You just quoted me to myself," she pointed out.

"Well," I said a bit obstinately, "you sounded like you need to hear it."

"Shut up," she said around a bit of a laugh.

"Make me," I said quietly. Her face was very close to mine. Her eyes searched my face, looking for I knew not what. I wasn't sure if she found it or not. She patted my cheek just a little too hard to be simply affectionate.

"Come on you goofball," she said. "We have motorcycles to ride."

Once we had parked and gotten the bikes out, I realized just how dumb this was. As soon as I was sitting on the damn thing, I realized that this was about as complicated as driving a standard, but was completely different and that none of my driving or biking experience would transfer over. I was doing something more complicated that I was less good at with considerably few safety features. I was going to die.

Or not.

"That was awesome!" I crowed, laughing from where I was, flat on my back after my first attempt. The bike was mostly on top of me. I was about to sit up and get it off me when Josie appeared, stand over me.

"Are you okay?" she asked, hauling the bike off me. "You know, you need to turn when the road does."

"Sure, sure," I said. "Let's go again."

"Nah, Ben," she said, "you have a cut. Doesn't it hurt?"

"What?" I asked, realizing that I felt dampness on my forehead. I brushed carefully and found blood and dirt on my hand.

"Huh," I said thoughtfully. "Doesn't hurt. Let's go again."

"No, you idiot," she said. "You could have a concussion. Come on. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"What?" I complained. "No, I'm fine."

Without a second thought, she whipped off her shirt and held it to my head. I did feel a little woozy, but I was pretty sure that it wasn't the head wound. She was toned, sun-kissed, an indescribably perfect balance of firm muscles, supple curves, and taught sinew. Her skin was smooth and without a single blemish others than a few scars here and there that drew the eye, adding to her appeal. With the dark strands falling disheveled about her handsome face, her dark eyes worried yet steady and true. To say nothing of a slim and simple black bra and absolutely no hint of tan line...

Her mouth twisted, as though trying to fight a smile, smugness and incredulity warring for expression.

"Come on," she said. "Hospital."

I headed towards the truck as she rode the bike back. She looked damned good doing it too. I wobbled towards the cab as she loaded the bike.

"Nope!" she denied me, shoving me over and starting the truck herself.

"Wait," I said, "can you drive?"

She looked aghast at me, "Yes! I'm sixteen!"

I eyed her, the pause rather obvious. I didn't care.

"You don't look sixteen," I said, and she once again fought not to look pleased.

She looked as thought she was a bit insulted before I added, "I mean only sixteen."

She grinned and it took me a second to remember that I was trying to make a point."I meant," I continued, "do you have a license?"

"I meant," I continued, "do you have a license?"

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. Duh!"

"Okay," I said as we head towards her place to drop off the bikes.

"I'm fine," I said as we, and but we I mean she, unloaded the bikes. "I just need a couple of butterfly band-aids."

"Look," she said, "I'm not going to let you get some gnarly scar or go to sleep tonight and die. Okay? Just... come with me to the hospital. Please?"

She looked way too charmingly vulnerable for me to seriously consider saying no. I couldn't fight my own smile.

"Did you take off your shirt just to sucker me into listening to you?" I asked as we piled into the truck.

One corner of her mouth turned up and she raised an eyebrow, "Not just. More of a happy accident."

"I could stand more of those," I said. "Can we at least swing by my house, so I can put on some clean clothes that don't look like I just fell off a motorcycle?"

"Okay," she said as she drove, then looked down at herself. "Would you mind grabbing an extra shirt for me? I don't really feel like sitting in a doctors office like this."

The house was empty, thank god, and I changed, stashing my clothes and grabbing a green button up for Josie. Needless to say, my clothing scheme for next week was wrecked.

She waited outside my door, just in case I passed out or something. I was a bit dismayed at watching her put the shirt on, but there was something intimate about watching getting dressed, even this tiniest bit. She looked good in the slightly more sophisticated clothes than her usual torn and cut T-shirts, sweats, and jeans. Something about it made her seem older, even with the still cut off shorts, like she was an early twenty-something college student, lounging at a local coffee shop while studying for an upcoming exam.

It suddenly occurred to me that such a possibility could exist. She and I could go to college, right here, if not exactly at the same time. We could get degrees together, maybe start a business together or be housemates or something. We had the potential for a future together that I didn't really see before that moment.

"Let's go," she said casually, unaware that I was having a bit of a revelation over here. She drove me to the hospital. She stayed with me in the waiting room. She didn't leave my side, even when the nurses insisted. She held my hand while they put in the three stitches that were all the injury called for. I paid the copay with a check, my checkbook still in my truck from when we went junkyard diving. I didn't show signs of a concussion, so they prescribed me an antibiotic and something for swelling and headache. I pretty much sat in the chair at the pharmacy and let Josie for all the work. Finally, we left, and it was starting to get late.

"Want to come to my place for dinner?" I asked. "We have fish. And more fish."

She laughed, "I can eat fish."

It was still light enough to see, and she looked so at ease behind the wheel, completely unruffled by this whole thing, as though she took boys to the emergency room every other weekend. But it was more than that.

"You're kinda hot, you know that?" I sort of stated.

She busted out laughing, "Hold on. We're going back to the hospital."

"What?" I demanded. "Why?"

"Apparently they misdiagnosed your head wound," she laughed.

"What?" I said, a bit sullen. "You are."

She shook her head, "No, I'm not."

There was nothing self-deprecating in her comment. It wasn't like she felt bad about it or anything. She just didn't think that.

She turned to look at me, "I get it. You like looking at me and you would totally jump my bones if I let you, which just so you know, I won't."

"That's what I don't get," I interrupted. "You like me. But you aren't interested in messing around. I think you're attractive, you shoot me down. Like, what does I guy have to do to get a little play around here?"

She didn't look all that amused by my joking tone.

"But, my point is," she continued as though I hadn't spoken, "just because you think I'm attractive does mean I am. You're never going to see someone who looks like me on the cover of a magazine or on the billboard or something. I'm not what society thinks is beautiful."

She went to shift gears. I pushed it in neutral. This probably wasn't a good idea with the head injury and all but I didn't care. I grabbed the wheel and steered onto the shoulder. She fought me, but not enough to stop me. Once we were off the road, she took the hint and stopped.

Without pretense or care, a grabbed her face, roughly.

"I'm not society," I said passionately. "I am not magazine covers or billboards or movie posters or stupid people who judge what is marketable and correct in order feel better about myself. I don't care from unconventional! I don't care what anyone else looks like. I think you're beautiful! Deal with it!"

She didn't appear to know what to do with herself. She looked like she was thinking about thumping me. She looked like she was considering crying angry tears. She looked like she was considering happy tears. She settled for decking me.

Her fist connected with my jaw, not hard, but enough to get me to let go and slide back a bit. Before I could respond, she was pushing me back onto the seat, her lips on mine. My head hurt. My jaw too. I didn't care.

She was warm. Pressed on me as she was, I could feel muscles and skin and nubile flesh. Her hair brushed my hands as they returned to her face. Our tongues met and danced, and, to my astonishment, I felt her pull back, our lips still locked, just enough that she could start to unbutton her shirt.

I was instantly more frantic. My hands traced down her to her hips, up her back, one hand catching the loose shirt and sliding up the nearly bare skin of her back. I felt a finger catch on her bra strap.

She pulled back from me, her eyes full of heat, her body practically shaking. We looked deep into each others' eyes, both of us are simmering on the brink. One little shove, and we'll go over, and there's no turning back.

It took me a moment to register where the tapping is coming from. The window.

"Ben?"

I recognized that voice.

"Mom?" I didn't have to ask.

In a flash, Josie is off of me, sitting back in the driver seat, holding the lopsided shirt closed, one shoulder still bare.

"Jocelyn," my mother said, "why don't I give you a ride home. Ben, I'll see you back at the house."

Josie looked at me, wanting to protest, to say something, anything, knowing that I was hurt today.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Go on."

She shamefully righted the shirt a bit more as she got out, holding it shut as she crosses her arms tightly around her. They both left without saying another word.

I drove home carefully. I was not there long, eating some leftovers from the night before, when mom got home.

"What happened to your head?" she asked.

Well, crap.

"I tripped," I said. The bandage was pretty small, compared to my previous injuries. She probably wouldn't notice the stitches unless I showed her. Fat chance.

"So," she said, looking supremely uncomfortable, "do you want to explain to me exactly what was going on tonight?"

I shuttered, "Of course I don't."

She suppressed a humorless chuckle, "Do it anyway."

I rotated the plate in front of me so the food was closer, "I think it was pretty self-explanatory."

"No, see," she said, "that doesn't work for me. I am not a big fan of stumbling on two fraternizing teenagers, especially when one of them happens to be my son."

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, "Nothing happened."

"Thank god for that," she said. "But if I hadn't happened along, what would have?"

I shrugged, "I don't know."

"THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" she roared.

I flinched back, my chair just starting to tilt, thudding loudly back down. My mother had never raised her voice to me ever, not like that. She had hollered and gotten angry, but this was different. I had never seen her like this.

"Ben," she said, her calm barely returning. "This is not okay. You are a damn good kid, but what you're doing here; you're playing with fire. You know damn well what would have happened if I hadn't come along. We both do. Tell me, if I hadn't stopped you, would you have at least been safe?"

"Ugh! Mom!" I complained.

"You don't get a pass on this, Ben," she said. "I don't like it any more than you do, but I have an obligation as your parent. Tell me."

I sighed, "No. We couldn't have."

Her face got very hard.

"That's unacceptable Benjamin," she said coldly.

"It wouldn't have gone that far," I protested.

Mom shook her head, "No. You don't get to just make excuses. You are an adult, Ben, legally if nothing else. You have a responsibility to make smart decisions before responsibility and obligation make them for you. Your dad and I got really lucky with each other, and at best, we made the best of a bad situation. I don't want that for you, Benji. I won't have had it any other way, but I'd be lying if I said this was the outcome I wanted and that I have no regrets."

Sitting before my mother, seeing the emotion crossing her face, the most emotion I had seen from her perhaps ever, it blew me away just how obvious it was in that moment how much she never got over my father. I had no idea how I hadn't seen it before. It was in that moment too that I realized just how much I could relate to my mother. Our lives were chosen by another. Neither of us got our happy endings. We both got left behind.

Mom took a deep breath. She let it out just as slow.

"You're an adult, Ben," she said. "You could move out tomorrow and I couldn't do a thing to stop you. But, as long as you live in my house, you have to abide by my rules. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am," I said glumly.

She nodded, "No harm was done tonight, so I'm not going to punish you, as such. However, find time this week to go with me to the clinic to get tested."

"Mom!" I screeched, turning a heretofore unbeknownst shade of red.

"You are an adult, Benjamin!" she said loudly, going pink herself. "This is what adults do."

"That's not necessary," I hissed.

"Oh," she said, "why is that?"

"Because," I said, still red, "I am... a virgin."

She gave me a significant look. After a moment, her face relaxed a bit.

"You and Edith never..."

I flinched harder than when she yelled before. She flinched a little herself.

"No," I said, not bothering to correct her. I started to feel raw in my chest, like grinding tectonics ribs.

"Okay," she said, her face relaxing more. "Okay. I guess we can forgo that, for now."

She shook her head, "But if you two do decide-"

"Mom!" I cried.

"Okay," she said. "But if that happens, you're going. And you will be safe, young man. End of discussion."

I said nothing.

"Okay?" she insisted.

"Yes, okay!" I said. "God!"

"Okay," she said, relaxing. She went to the kitchen and got her own food. She was sitting down to eat when I was cleaning up. As I went to go upstairs, she stopped me with a mumble and a wave for her mouth was full. When she swallowed, she said, "Just so you know, I told Belinda what happened tonight. If you do decide to call Josie, you might have to deal with that. You've been warned."

I got upstairs. I pulled out my phone. One missed call from her. I sat in my room and waited, not wanting to call and risk her mom picking up. Seventeen minutes later, almost exactly a half hour after the first call, she tried again.

"Hello," I answered.

"Hey," she said. "Hi. Sorry. I wasn't sure if you could answer. Then I thought you might be dodging my calls. Yeah, anyways. Hey. Are you okay?"

I shook my head, "You do not want to hear about the night I had."

"Was there yelling?" she commiserated.

"Yeah," I affirmed. "Yelling and disappointment. Talks of responsibility and obligation and... safety."

"Oh god!" she laughed. "That must have been mortifying."

"What did your mom do?" I had to ask.

"She asked me if you were any good," she said evenly.

I wasn't sure if it was anatomically possible to swallow your own tongue, but apparently, I decided to try and give it a go.

"You're joking!" I gasped.

"No," she said and I could almost see her shaking her head as she spoke, "I'm not. She asked me to scale it from one to eleven. I think she has decided that if she's cool with it and keeps trying to talk to me about it, I'll eventually knock it off out of self-preservation."

"That's diabolical," I said in dismay.

"That's my mom," she sighed.

There was a brief pause.

"So," she said, "are we going to talk about this?"

I gave a long sigh, "I guess we are."

Though we both agreed, neither of us said anything for about a minute.

"Okay, fine," she said. "What happened was a mistake."

I sort of felt the bottom of my stomach empty out, "I see."

"Damn it, Ben," she said, "now is not the time to play the hurt little boy, okay? Look, I can only say not interested so many times before I sound like a broken record. Why are you not getting this?"

"Because," I said, "you aren't listening to me. I want you! Why the hell can't you see that I'm good enough?!"

She shut up. So did I.

"I never said you weren't good enough, Ben," she said, the empathy in her voice almost painful, to her and me.

"You really are acting like it, though," I said. "This is it, for me. I'm giving you what I know how to give. And you are saying you deserve more."

"Yes, more," she said, "but not better. Ben, we can't talk about this, really talk about this without talking about... about things I know you don't want to."

"I'm not ready for that," I shot back, feeling more frantic than even I sounded.

"I know," she said. "Exactly. You're not ready. God, when you are, believe me, what happened tonight would be a more than welcome occurrence. But you aren't ready."

I sucked in air, "Okay, yeah. I see what you're saying."

"Good," she said. "Because this can't keep happening. I'm glad your mom stopped us because that could have been bad."

"Why?" I asked, curious now.

She was quiet a moment, "I don't know how to say this with risking freaking you out or pissing you off or whatever."

"Josie," I cajoled, "just go ahead."

"Look," she said, "it was a moment of weakness. Passions were high and I am not going to act like I didn't have a say, but Ben, you did too. You knew what I wanted, and despite that, you were willing to take advantage of a situation where you knew I was being an idiot and going against my better judgment. You were willing to take advantage of the situation, of me, to get what you wanted. Do you see? Do you understand why that is really, truly not cool?"

It clicked. I did get it. Whether I liked it or not, was willing to do what I wanted, without her honest consent, just because she was willing to go along with it in the moment. I wasn't going to be the asshole who tried to split hairs. Without consent was without consent. Who the hell had I become?

"Jesus," I whispered, feeling hollow. "Jesus."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I didn't say anything.

"Okay," she said. "See, I need to make this next part really, really clear, okay?"

Again, I said nothing.

"Ben?" she insisted.

"Yeah," I said unhappily. "Okay."

"Good," she said. "I don't want to be the kind of girl who says how it is or how it has to be. You get to make your own decision. But, if you want me in your life, that can't happen again. You're my best friend, Ben, and I'm here for you, but I am a person. Saying I care about you does not give you the right to treat me however you want. If you step too far over the line again, I can't go there again. It would break my heart, but if you push me on this, I'm done. Do... do you understand?"

She sounded close to tears. I wished that I could have been. I felt numb. I felt cold. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. I wished we could have done this in person.

"Don't do that," I said flatly.

"What?" she asked, sounding almost scared.

"That!" I said louder. "You're sitting over there caring about me after what I did to you. Could you... I don't know, treat me like crap or something?"

She laughed. Hard.

"You complete douche nozzle!" she said, still laughing. "Look, I get that I'm so hot, you would tap that more than a drum solo at a speed jazz competition, but seriously, how dare you try to get in my pants just because I was unzipping them for you? I mean, I'm a lady, for Christ sake! The least you can do is buy me dinner first."

Why was I laughing?! It wasn't funny!

"Well," I said, "it wasn't exactly like you were giving me mixed messages or anything. Oh, wait..."

"Shut up!" she laughed. "No one said I'm perfect! I don't expect you to be either."

I was quiet a moment.

"Did you really mean that?" I asked.

"Mean what?" she asked, humor still in her voice.

"I'm your best friend," I said.

She was quiet, her voice tender as she said, "Yeah. You are."

I suddenly busted up laughing.

"Man," I chortled, "that must suck for you!"

"Yeah," she giggled, "it isn't a cake walk. That's for sure!"

We both laughed ourselves quiet, but it was a good, companionable sort of quiet. I found that I really wished we were together. Maybe in the back of the truck, lying on a blanket, looking at the stars. My arm around her shoulders, her hand on my chest as she turned into me as we laughed. Why did this though make me want to cry?

"I have to go," she said. "My mom is hovering."

I came up short, "What?"

"No," she laughed, "not literally!"

"Oh," I said, covering my face with on hand, "right. Duh."

"You really are something else, Ben Hawkins," she said.

There was a moment of quiet, and I sobered.

"Josie?" I asked.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"What if, ya know," I started and stopped. "What if I never get there? What if I can't ever... be ready? For you. For there to be an us."

I would have expected a long silence, maybe a heavy sigh.

"You'll get there, Ben," she said firmly.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"Because," she said, "you're a good person, with a good heart. You're stronger than I think you realize. It might be hard and messy and you might do a lot of stupid things, but you'll get there. You deserve to be happy."

"You do too," I said stridently. "You shouldn't have to wait around for my skinny ass to figure out how to be a person again."

"Oh, Ben," she said, almost chidingly. "You're ass isn't that skinny anymore! No, but seriously, you're my best friend. I'm getting what I want. I am happy. I don't need you to be my boyfriend in order for me to be happy. I don't need you at all. I get that all on my own. But I like having you around. You're worth putting up with! Plus, you're cute and easy on the eyes and everything. Plus my friends think you're hot, so you have that going for you. Not a bad kisser either, so there's that to perhaps look forward to. Oh, and you fall down a lot, and that's hilarious and all. Plus, like, you have this really fun tendency of bringing me cool stuff to play with, and what girl doesn't like having a guy parking his motorcycle in her garage, if you know what I mean!"

"Okay, okay," I said.

"Plus, your mom's like the police chief in a nearby town, and I'm sure there's probably some perks there I don't know about yet."

"Okay," I said louder.

"And, I'm not entirely sure, but from how I was totally grinding on you tonight, I'm pretty sure you have a really nice-"

"Okay!" I shouted. "Okay!"

She was positively howling with laughter.

"You are too much!" she almost sang. "I'll talk to later."

"Alright," I said. "Bye."

"Bye," she said, still laughing. I hung up the phone.

As I lied there in the darkness, I am back to the idea of us having that conversation in person. I was pretty sure that if she had blathered on like that in person, my inclination would have been to kiss her. For some reason, I got the impression she would have let me. I had no idea what that meant. Where was I going?


	7. Chapter 7: Shifting

Jesse stepped over his chair, sitting down at the lunch table.

"Dude," he laughed, "you look like eighteen kinds of tense and unhappy."

I shook my head, trying desperately to ignore the decorations around me. Sigh. It was Valentines Day.

Angelo gave him a look, and he seemed to get it.

"Oh, right," he said. "Actually, that's perfect. What are you doing Friday?"

I smiled crookedly at Jesse, "Look, man, I get why you would be persistent, but seriously, you can't keep asking me out like this."

Mickie nearly missed her chair as she sat at the table. Jesse laughed, and while I wasn't sure if it was at my joke or Mickie's expense, she turned pink regardless.

"But seriously," said Jesse. "See, I am trying to get together a group of single folk, sort of an anti-Valentines Day thing. Watch a ridiculous action movie, protest the whole couples thing. You game?"

I considered.

"Lauren's not going to be there, is he?" I asked.

"He's not invited," Jesse replied, sounding glad of it.

Lauren hadn't stopped hanging out with our friends, but he was never around when I was, which pretty much meant that the group who sat with me at lunch got a hiatus from him that they seemed to be very much appreciating as of late. He was none too pleased with how I trounced him, and he still hadn't been back to Le Push or First Beach. He hadn't shut up about the fight, either. I was seriously considering having another conversation with him about it. I had recently started working knuckle push-ups into my routine, just in case.

"Okay," I said, still considering. "This isn't just an excuse for you to get a bunch of single girls together so you can try to play the field, is it?"

He tried for a roguish grin, but it mostly looked like he had just farted and was waiting for one of us to smell it.

"Would I do that?" he asked almost smugly.

"Yes," said Mickie, Angelo, and I at the same time.

"Damn," he said. "Well, there goes that plan. I don't want to be too transparent. I am not against picking up numbers towards possibilities of future bliss, but I will not expressly attempt to hook up with any girl that night. Sound like a plan?"

I nodded, "I am down for that. I think I could refrain from doing the same."

"Aren't you hooking up with that Indian girl?" asked Jesse.

Everyone at the table got really still, even Brenda. I looked around.

"What?" I asked.

Mickie gave him a dirty look.

"Er," he backpedaled, "I mean Native American girl."

"No," I said shortly. "I'm not. What gave you that idea?"

No one was looking at me, except for Angelo who glanced at me sympathetically.

"What?" I said, starting to feel like I was missing something.

"Erica," started Mickie.

I whipped around to look at her, "What about Erica?"

She almost flinched. It could have been the speed I turned to her. It could have been the snap of my words.

"She..." Jesse stepped in, "she was driving home Saturday night and saw-"

I stood up. Instantly, everyone at the table slid back a few inches in surprise.

"Whoa," said Jesse, "easy, Tiger."

I spotted Erica in few seconds, sitting with a few of the other AV nerds at a nearby table. I started for her.

"Easy, Rod," said Jesse, trying to get around the table to keep up with me. "Easy, Rod. Easy, Rod. Easy, Rod!"

The others at the table noticed me before her. They looked scared. I didn't care. I grabbed the empty chair next to her, turned it sideways, and sat in it backwards to face her, my elbows settled on my knees. When she saw me, she froze, her eyes wide.

"Do I have your attention?" I asked, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the cafeteria.

She didn't move.

I opened my mouth to speak, my lips giving a slight pop with the intensity of even my slightest movement.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I ask, my voice no louder.

She nodded, now trembling a little that she was no longer frozen.

"I heard you saw me on Saturday night," I said evenly. "Is that right?"

She trembled more.

"I said," I said, the two words just a little louder, then returning to my previous tone and volume, "'is that right'?"

She nodded again, a bit more frantically.

"So," I said, "considering you were only there in passing and do not have all the information, and given how compromising the situation you saw was, do you think it was right for you to spread that information around?"

It took her a moment to shake her head, minutely.

I leaned a little closer to her, and she leaned back, averting her eyes a bit.

"Are you a whore?" I asked, my tone the same.

Her fear turned instantaneously to righteous anger.

"N-no!" she stammered. "I'm n- how dare-"

I shifted just a tad closer, and she gave a little gasp, scooting back.

"Then, would it be very fair if someone you didn't even know began spreading rumors and implicating that you were one?" I asked quietly.

After a few seconds of undeniable shock, she deflated, slumping in her chair, looking truly ashamed.

"She's my friend," I said. "And she deserves better than that."

She nodded, her eyes downcast.

"I would appreciate it," I said, "if you would spread that around instead of what you have been. Feel free to throw this in too. You can tell them everything, even how big of an asshole I was. I'm offering you a second chance to make a better decision here. I hope you take it."

I stood up. For a moment, I looked down at her. I meant to look with contempt, but on the way out, it sort of just became piteous. I turned and walked away.

"Wow," Jesse said, falling into step beside me as we went back to the table, "that was actually sort of sweet."

I couldn't tell from his tone whether he meant awesome or touching. I didn't really care at that moment.

"Everything okay?" asked Angelo.

"Yeah," said Jesse. "Completely fine. Ben's a big badass, remember? A little over the top, maybe, but he's a good dude."

"D'aw," I said with extreme sarcasm, "I love you too!"

"So," said Jesse quickly and uncomfortably, "Friday."

"Sure," I said, I thought about it. "Can I invite people?"

I knew Josie would like to go, but I thought I would try to invite Amber too, just so I wasn't showing preference or anything.

"Only if they're girls," said Jesse.

"They happen to be girls, yeah," I said.

"Nice!" said Jesse appreciatively. Mickie looked not at all pleased.

The bell rang and we began to make our way to class.

"Ben," said Angelo, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said. "What's up?"

He nodded to Brenda who hugged him sideways and walked on.

"I'm worried about you," he admitted. "It isn't that I think you are particularly out of line with anything that you are doing exactly. It is just that you give off a certain kind of vibe."

"What sort of vibe?" I asked, not sure that I liked this conversation, but I was willing to listen. I mean, come on, it's Angelo.

"Like you are unhappy enough to hurt people," he said. "I heard what happened with Lauren, and while I think you could have handled it without fighting him, it was fair. But not everyone is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here."

I only sort of understood what he was saying.

"Just what are you getting at?" I asked.

"Ben," he said gently, "people are scared of you."

I nodded, "Yeah, and?"

"Does that matter to you?" he asked.

I considered what he was saying. Reputations can be powerful. I had seen situations where a reputation could irrevocably damage someone's character. But it really came down to one thing and one thing only. People who could think for themselves would. People who were sheep... their opinions had nothing to do with my actual actions.

"What do I care?" I asked. "People are going to think that they want to think. I am not going to bother trying to convince anyone of anything if they would rather believe what they hear than what they actually see."

"They are looking," said Angelo. "What you did today was scary, even if your heart was in the right place. This is going to come back on you, somehow, at some point. I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

I frowned.

"I appreciate your concern," I said flatly. "Was there something else?"

He shook his head sighing, "No, man. Take care of yourself. I'll see you around."

The rest of the day went smoothly enough. I got bombarded with the flowery decorations and the sugary delight of all the sickening couples around me, and I did my schoolwork. For the most part, everyone, even the teachers, seemed to detect the aura of distaste I was giving off and left me alone. I wasn't exactly grateful, but I was glad of it.

As I pulled out of the parking lot after school, I realized I needed some good old fashion commiseration, so once I had broken away from the exodus of students, rather than heading for home, I turned towards La Push instead.

This was the first time I had ever come to visit Josie during the week, and I was stridently trying not to think about what that might mean. I didn't know when she was getting home, and since she didn't meet me at the curb, as was her usual practice when she wasn't expecting me, I sat in my cab doing homework.

After close to half an hour, there was a tap on my window. I looked up to see Belinda in her chair. I rolled to the window as best I could. It wasn't exactly a smooth mechanism anymore.

"Hey, Ben," she said warmly. "What brings you all the way out here?"

I was really hoping to avoid this potential awkwardness, considering this was the first interact we had had since Saturday, hence me waiting in the truck rather than the house. I frantically tried to come up with a good excuse.

"I was wondering if Josie wanted to have a study date," I said, indicating my book in my lap. "I'm getting a little behind and could use the company."

"A date, huh?" she said, something suggestive about her tone. "Well, she should be a here momentarily. Why don't you come on inside? You'll be staying in the living room, I take it?"

"Uh," I said, wondering where else we would study, "actually, I was going to offer to have her come over to my house. If that's alright."

It was then that Josie came around the house. Seeing my truck, she grinned hugely. Then she saw her mother and her smile became a little stilted.

"Hey," she said, a slight nervousness to her words. "What's going on?"

Her mother gave her a significant look, "Ben was just inviting you over to his place so you two can... study."

"Oh," she said, her voice a little higher. "That's nice."

"You could stay for dinner and all," I said.

"You're going to cook for her too?" asked Belinda. "Wow, this one is a keeper."

"Enough mom," she said, deciding to head this social interaction off before it could go on any longer. "Sure, Ben, that sounds great."

She got into the truck.

"Hey, Ben," said Belinda through the still open window. "The lungs on that girl are something else. She used to set off car alarms throwing temper tantrums as a kid. So if she really gets going, just have her bite a pillow."

"Mom!" cried Josie, looking more embarrassed than I had ever seen anyone ever. She quickly struggled to get the door shut without closing it on anything important, like her feet.

"Drive!" she demanded as she buckled in. Books and notes skittered as my legs shifted under them as I turned the key and drove off, Belinda smirking on the edge of the lawn in the rearview.

"Well," I said, "I haven't been quite that embarrassed since Sunday."

She looked over at me, her hand partially hiding her face, "What happened Sunday?"

I reached over and popped the glove box.

Josie burst into a fit of giggles as she reached in and pulled out the not insubstantial box of condoms. She read the black marker written letters on the front.

"'Truck'?" she asked.

I nodded, "The other read Nightstand. There was a note: I'm not saying it's okay, but just in case. I'll check to make sure they're all there."

"And how many are left?" she raised an eyebrow, grinning teasingly.

I glanced at her, "Do you want to go there?"

"Bring it, Pasty," she mocked.

"I'll go there, Lungs," I threatened with a smile.

Her eyes narrowed, "Some lines shouldn't be crossed."

"So," I asked, "are you?"

The teasing tone subsided and her usual happy demeanor appeared.

"Am I what?" she asked.

"A screamer?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Oh," she laughed. "Actually... I don't know."

I looked at her, "You don't... I mean, you haven't?"

"No," she said, with just the barest hint of shyness. "Have you?"

"No," I said, abashed, then more regularly, "No, I haven't. Saturday pretty much was about the closest I've ever gotten. Well, I've gotten pretty close to that before, but pretty much a tie."

"Ah," she said, as though understand. Then she asked, "So, no bases?"

I blinked at her, "Huh?"

"Bases," she said again, her hands illustrating a vague cupping motion.

"No!" I choked out.

She gave a hearty laugh, "You're too easy. And red!"

"I..." I stared out the windshield, having to calm down some before I could continue. "I was brought up to be respectful. I don't just paw at girls!"

"Why not?" she asked.

I glared at her.

"No, really," she said. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm seriously curious."

I relaxed. A little.

"My dad," I said. "He wanted to make sure I respected women and all that. It's important to make sure that I don't anything untoward."

"Huh?" she asked.

"I'm not supposed to do things to girls that they don't like," I said. "It's especially bad if its sexual stuff."

"Why?" she asked.

"It's disrespectful!" I said a little louder.

"Not always," she said.

I sat straighter, "What?"

She shrugged, a distant little smile on her face, "Some girls don't mind being... pawed at."

A thought crossed my mind. I figured I had even chances. I started reaching. She protested playfully and swatted my hand away.

"You can't expect a girl to do all the work," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You gotta be willing," she said. "Girls don't always want to have to pull guys on top of them. They want a guy who isn't so worried about offending them that he won't do anything until she asked if it's okay forty times first."

"But," I said, shaking my head, "that doesn't make any sense. What if a guy does something she doesn't like?"

"Then she tells him," she said. "It's about trust, Ben. He has to trust that she won't freak out if he does something she doesn't like and she has to trust that he won't freak out if she says no."

"Huh," I said, thinking. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"Do what on purpose?" she asked as we pulled up.

"Just point out that I don't trust you," I said.

She froze, "I didn't say that."

"But, by your logic, I don't," I said. "If the interaction happens as you describe it, smoothly, there's trust. Our interaction on Saturday didn't go like that, hence, no trust."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You said no," I said, "and I didn't listen."

She sat there a long time. She glanced down at her school bag.

"Ben," she said. "I think that it is possible for you to trust me. Do I think you do right now? You're right; I don't. But that's just true. It is like saying water's wet or the sun is up during the day. It just is. You don't trust me. I don't think it makes you a bad person. You have trust issues, very real, very understandable trust issues. It's part of the reason you're not ready. But maybe some day, sooner or later, you just might."

I couldn't help but grimace as we walked to the house.

"Ben," she said putting a hand on my shoulder and turning me to look at her with a surprisingly firm grip. "Stop. Look at me."

I did.

"I don't care," she said. "I'm your friend, and whether or not you trust me has nothing to do with that. You respect me, you have a good heart, and you're not always an asshole."

I smirked, "Bitch."

She guffawed, "I kinda am, though, aren't I?"

I sighed as I unlocked the house, "You could stand to be less of a tease."

She made an affronted sound, "How am I a tease?!"

"You just practically invited me to grope you," I pointed out.

"I did no such thing!" she shot back as we sat in the living room.

"'Some girls like to be pawed'," I snorted. "Right..."

"That's not what I-" she started.

"Oh, and the way you dress," I point out.

She looked down. She was wearing a rather short and tight pair of cotton shorts and a halter top that was once a gray T-shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on it. It was pretty obvious she wasn't wearing anything under it, but I wasn't about to admit that I had noticed.

"What's wrong with my clothing?" she asked seriously.

I snorted, "It's February. In Washington. You're going to tell me that you're dressed like that because of the weather?"

She seemed genuinely perplexed, "Why? It's not that cold."

"I guess," I said. "If you say so."

The phone rang. I went and picked it up.

"Hello, Hawkins residence," I said. Josie gave me a weird look.

"Hey Ben," said Mom. "Just checking it."

"Uh-huh," I said. She never checked in. And if she did, it wasn't on the land-line that only rang downstairs.

"I'll be home in two minutes," she said.

"Okay," I said easily. "Josie is here. We're in the living room doing homework."

"Oh," she said, a little flatly. "Okay. I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye, mom," I said, and hung up.

"What was that about?" asked Josie.

"My mom just wanted to see if I was plowing you," I said.

Her expression was shocked before she busted out laughing.

"Our parents," I said sarcastically, sitting down and pulling out books. "Really, we should start having sex just to screw with them."

She seemed perturbed by my words.

"What?" I asked.

She bobbed her head, going a spot in her book.

"Let me think about for a second," she said.

I was baffled, "Huh?"

"I want to say something," she said, "but I don't really understand why yet. Until I figure that out, I can't really understand what needs to be said."

"Okay," I said. "I guess that makes sense."

We went to reading. After about five minutes, she looked up.

"Okay," she said. "Is love important to you?"

"I..." I looked away, closing my eyes.

"Never mind," she said. "Forget I said anything."

"It used to be," I said. "It was really important to me. Since then. I don't know. I have gone really, really far out of my way not to think about it."

"That's fair," she said. "The thing is, though, it's important to me. I know so many people whose first time wasn't about love or trust. Even if they don't regret it now, I think they will some day."

"Wait," I said. "I thought we were talking about love, not sex."

"We can't talk about both?" she asked.

"Fine," I said. "What's your point?"

"My point is," she said. "We joke and stuff, but really, I want my first time to be with someone I love, someone who chooses me, someone who trusts me."

"What's the difference?" I asked.

She looked almost hurt by my question.

"No," I said, "I'm not trying to talk you out of it or anything. I really want to know what you think the difference is."

She considered, "Why do you keep trying to kiss me?"

"What!" I said, trying to redirect too. "I thought we were talking about you."

"We are but I'm proving a point," she said. "If I offered you an extended make out session, with unlimited second base action, would you say yes and why?"

"Honestly?" I asked.

"No, lie to me," she said sarcastically.

I smirked, "Honestly yes. Because I think it would be fun."

"Fun for you?" she asked.

"No," I backpedaled. "Fun for both of us."

"Now," she said, "do you mean that or are you just responding because I called you out on it?"

"I don't know," I said. "Honestly, I didn't really think about it."

"That is exactly my point," she said. "I don't want my first time with someone to just be about them."

"Them?" I asked, hinting innuendo.

"Him," she affirmed. "I don't want my first time to be all about him. And I want his first- well, whether or not it's his first time isn't important. I want my first time with him, our first time, to be about me. He shouldn't not be thinking about me."

"You think I wouldn't be all about you?" I asked, perhaps a bit defensively.

"Yes," she said bluntly. "I think you have been more interested in what you want than what I want. If you cared more about what I want than what you want, you wouldn't have kissed me back or would have stopped me every time I made advances towards you until you were sure it was what I really wanted."

I stopped forming my counter arguments. That was true. Undeniably true. But hold on...

"That's not fair," I said. "How can I be expected to care more about what I want than what you want if you don't do the same for me?"

She shook her head, "I'm not expecting you to. Ben, don't you see what you're doing? Think about this, please?"

I took a deep breath, "Okay. I'll try."

"I'm telling you what I want," she said, "and you are arguing that it isn't reasonable. And, at nearly the same time, you're saying that I should be more willing to give you what you want. I'm sure you're not doing it on purpose, but you're acting like an entitled jerk."

"No," I started to say, but she looked away.

"Just stop," she said. "Saying I'm wrong changes nothing. There's no point. If you don't want to see it, you won't. I'm not trying to force you."

I stopped.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Look, I wasn't trying to upset you. I just don't understand."

She looked back, "I know. And that's okay. You keep looking at it from your point of view, which is fine. I shouldn't expect anything more from you. In some ways, I think if you tried to see things my way, it would be hard on you."

"Hard how?" I asked.

She frowned, "Hard because it would force you to look at... things differently. Things from your past. Things you don't want to think about."

It was my turn to frown, "Why does everything come back to that for you?"

She shook her head, "I won't say any more here, unless you want me to."

"Good," I said, "because I don't."

"Okay," she said.

We went back to our books.

"It's just unfair," I said after a few minutes. "It's like, I am trying to get past it, forget about it."

She thought for a long moment, "You don't get past things by forgetting. When my dad died, I did everything I could do to avoid the pain, to forget about it. Didn't work. You have to learn to be okay with it, or you'll never get anywhere."

I flinched, "I will never be okay with what she-"

I jerked, toppling over from my seat on the floor. Blinking rapidly, I wrapped my arms around myself lying on the floor.

"Ben," she said. She drew my head onto her lap, stroking my hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

I looked up at her, "I can't be okay with this. I can't endure it. My only chance is to stay away from it. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to fix me."

I don't know when the tears started to fall. Somewhere in there, in where I buried my face into her stomach, clutching her to me as she curled herself protectively around me. She made quiet, soothing sounds, part sympathy and part consolation. She stroked my hair and my back, letting me hide my face from the world as I cried against her. All the hurt and the pain I held in for so long poured out of me. So much came out, and yet, it was not measurably less than it had been before.

After a long time, I cried myself out. I sat up, wiping my face, feeling even less comfortable than I did before I started crying.

"I'm sorry, Ben," she said. "I am, for everything. You don't need to shoulder it all alone. When you're ready, when you can take it, you'll feel it. All of it. It will suck, and I will be there for you as best I can. You're not alone."

Hiding my face, I nearly threw myself against her. She caught me up and held me against her, strong yet soft, warm, comforting on a level that I didn't really understand. She held me, and even though I didn't cry, I took solace in her in a way that I wasn't sure I ever had in anyone, not since... not in over a year, if not more.

"This is what you want?" I asked skeptically. "Not sex or groping or making out? You want this?"

She laughed, wiping a single tear of her own away.

"I like this," she said, still holding me, her fingertips brushing the short hair at the top of my neck. "I could stand to have more of this."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"No," she said, deadpan.

I shut up.

"Oh, fine," she conceded. "What?"

"Can I kiss you?" I asked.

She leaned back, her arms still around me, her face serious.

"Why?" she asked, searching my face.

I shrugged, "I feel like kissing you."

"No," she said. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because," I said. "I... I don't know how to say it."

"Just try," she said.

"This," I said, holding a little tighter to her, "this was good. I don't know if it is really helping, but it is... better. I want to show you that I care about you, and that's the best way I know how. It doesn't mean we're a couple or anything about our future; I'm not promising anything. But I don't want to do it unless you want me too. You're right; I haven't been thinking of you."

Her expression looked momentarily conflicted, then evened out, "And if I say no?"

I nodded, "Then I understand."

She nodded too, "Then no."

I wanted to get angry. I wanted to complain. I wanted to insist or be snide. Instead, I nodded and said, "Okay" and giving her a watery smile, started to get up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, almost suspiciously.

"Water," I said, clearing my throat. "You want some?"

I was halfway to the kitchen when she grabbed me. We flowed into a confusing mass of tumbling arms and legs, ending up on the floor, half in and out of the kitchen, her pulling me on top of her, our lips together.

It was a sweet kiss, and though it started out furious and rushed, it relaxed as we did, and was simple, tender and grounding.

Finally, as it broke, she looked up at me, grinning hugely.

"You," I said at length, "are very confusing."

She giggled, rather girlishly, before stifling it with her whole hand.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. Really I am, but I just couldn't not."

"It's okay," I said. "Just, please don't hold it against me if I screw it up. I am trying here, and it's hard, and the mixed messages don't entirely help."

"I know you are," she said, hugging me, rather hard at that, "and that's the problem! I know you aren't looking to be anything to me but what you are, but you are trying to be a good person. That is exactly the kind of person I want to be with; someone who is willing to be honest with themselves about who they are, and are willing to do what it takes to be better."

I suddenly felt kind of sick.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah," I said, "yeah. You just... reminded me of something. That's all."

"Having fun?"

I hadn't heard the door open. I managed to clip the door frame leaping upward and then spinning towards the table. Josie caught me, though I wasn't sure how, and Mom managed not to drop the pizzas.

"Mom!" I said loudly. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I did," said Josie.

I glared at her, "Then why didn't you say anything?"

"It's funnier this way," she said.

I stomped into the kitchen.

"Sorry," I heard her say to my mom.

"Hey," said Mom. "The pants are still on. No harm done. You guys were actually studying?"

"I can hear you," I pointed out as I drunk my water.

"Not well," said Josie. "We will, though, not that we have that all sorted out. He's finally starting to warm up to me."

"Good for you, kid," said Mom.

Oh. My. God. They're bonding!

"Are you two really going to subject me to this?!" I asked loudly. "I can take my pizza and study upstairs."

Mom sighed, "Boys are so sensitive. We must make allowances for their feelings."

"Mom!" I cried.

"And how he manages to make 'Mom' a two syllable word is beyond me," she said, flipping open one of the pizza boxes.

I sighed, bringing in plates and passing them around. We munched pizza. I wished I could say it was in silence.

"So, Josie," said Mom, "everything going okay in school?"

"Sure, sure," she said. "Chemistry is a pain, but I think I'm starting to get it."

"Maybe Ben can tutor you," she said. "His in advance placement after all."

"Really?" she asked. "I didn't know that."

"I was," I said. "In Phoenix. They don't have much here, but enough to make things interesting. It isn't like I'm getting college credit or anything."

"Brains and humility," said Mom. I mangled my pizza as much as ate it.

"How is your mom?" asked Mom.

"Good," said Josie. "She and Randell are talking again. He might come back by for a visit soon."

"Very nice," said Mom. "So, is that boy still pestering you? What's his name? The one that kept asking you out?"

I might have given myself whiplash.

"What?" I asked.

Josie was bright red, looking really embarrassed. Mom looked smug.

"What, no!" said Josie. "I mean, yes, there was a guy. But no, he isn't so persistent anymore. Not that he still asks me or anything. I said no."

She looked at me, at last.

"Really," she said, "it was nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," I said, crossing my arms and sitting back in my chair.

She looked suddenly serious.

"What's it to you?" she asked. "Even if some guy at school did ask me out, it'd be none of your business!"

"Yeah," I sputtered, "well..."

I looked at mom who was now positively smirking.

I realized she had done this on purpose. How did she know I'd be jeal-

Holy crap! I was jealous! And not just a little jealous; I was snakes writhing in my guts, caveman smash, chest beating, wanting to drag Josie back to my cave kinda jealous.

And what was more, I was pretty sure that Josie figured it out at the same time I did. And, given her expression, she looked mightily pleased. I wished terribly that I had the ability to melt through the floor.

Mom covertly took her pizza into the living room and turned on the TV and raised the volume so that we couldn't be easily overheard.

I sighed.

"Couldn't we just had sex and never spoken to each other again?" I asked sarcastically. "That would be so much easier than all this."

She shook with quiet laughter.

"Do you really want to do that?" she asked.

"Yes!" I said smiling.

She shook her head, still laughing. At length, I shook my head too.

"No," I said. "Sex like a dozen times, maybe two dozen, then no speaking again. Unless you want more sex."

"Oh shut up," she said, still smiling.

We at9

.e a little more pizza.

"Are you really jealous?" she asked.

"Were you jealous?" I asked brazenly. "Before? When I was..."

I couldn't finish.

She snorted, "God yes."

I gaped at her.

"Oh please!" she said. "I would be super jealous of any girl you were with."

I got what she was saying.

"Yeah," I said. "I am. Jealous, I mean."

She chewed and swallowed.

"You don't need to worry, Ben," she said. "I only have eyes for you. Why do you think I turned him down?"

I instantly began to rubber band back and forth like forty million times in three seconds, going from insane jealousy to wanting her to go date this guy and be happy back to jealousy and wanting her all to myself.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to date you if I had a choice?" I asked seriously.

She burst out laughing. I frowned. She laughed harder. I couldn't help it. I started cutting up too.

"I'm serious!" I complained, still laughing.

"Ben," she said, eating more pizza.

Her next words came out garbled.

"What?" I asked.

"I said," she repeated, swallowing, "that I'm exactly right for you."

"What?" I said, laughing nervously.

"We balance each other out," she said. "You are better at taking care of a home, while I handle vehicles. You are good at budgeting while I'm good at haggling. You're smart, but I'm wise. You need someone who can keep you whole, and I need someone earnest and good. You think before you act, and I am more of a do and ask questions later kind of girl. We are like gravity. We circle each other. It is only a matter of time before we end up together."

I shook my head, "I'm not ready for-"

"Not until you're ready," she said, her hand finding mine on the table. I looked at it, the spot where our hands touched. I looked ghostly next to her russet skin, but it didn't look or feel undesirable to me. I was still scared, but in that moment, I couldn't think why.

"Oh," I said, "before I forget; what are you doing Friday?"

"Um," she said, "I thought I might be doing some riding with this guy I know, but I guess I could make other plans. Why? What's up?"

"A friend of mine is getting a group of people together to go see a movie," I explained. "A sort of anti-Valentine's Day thing. They all have to be single. I figure you could come and invite Amber. Isn't she single?"

"She is," said Jose, "but don't say it like that in front of her!"

"Oh," I said. "Sure, sure."

She laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, trying not to continue laughing and going back to her pizza.

As it was, she ate most of the pizza. Mom got two, and she only had two pieces, and by the time Josie and I were full, there were only three pieces left. She ate a piece more than me out of both pies.

"Impressive," I said as we cleaned up.

"I try," she said proudly.

We curled up in the living room, studying, finally. We got caught up on homework and I helped her with her chemistry, though I had to read some of the chapter to figure out what they were doing. From there, it was just math, and while I wasn't great at math, it was still easier than the math I had to do at school. At last, it started to get late as we finished up.

"Come on," I said. "I'll get you home."

"Don't take too long," commented Mom, trying to hide her smile. "I'll be sure to let Belinda know you're on your way."

"I swear," I said as we walked out to the truck, her bag slung over her shoulder, "we should wait somewhere for like seven minutes, just to keep them wondering."

We loaded into the truck.

"Or," she said, "we could throw out all the condoms and just leave wrappers in the box for your mom to find."

I frowned, "No, let's not do that."

"Why?" she asked.

"We might need them," I said, pulling out and driving.

She chuckled, "I told you, I'm not interested in just have sex with you."

"I know," I said.

She stared at me.

"You never know," I said. "The future isn't set in stone or anything."

She grinned at me. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a tiny box.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she said.

"What, no!" I complained. She put the tiny box of conversation hearts between us.

"Eat 'em or don't," she said. "They're yours."

I snorted, "I don't have anything for you."

"Sure you do," she said meaningfully. I glanced at her and she looked... inviting. Not in like a sexual way. She looked happy, utterly careless, sure of herself and her place in the world. I wanted to be beside her, to be like her. She was magnetic, appealing in a way I didn't truly understand. I didn't want to possess her; I wanted a life with her. I wanted more than this shell thing of distraction and pain. It occurred to me then just how much such a thing was impossible. What I wanted was no more possible than time running backward or things to fall up or my heart to be unbroken. But I still wanted it.

"I'll take your eternal servitude," she said laughing.

I laughed too, "That ought to be worth a box of conversation hearts."

"Maybe two," she enthused.

It wasn't long before we pulled up outside her house. I wasn't sure why, but I turned off the truck. After looking at the box a moment, I turned and looked at her. She was looking back, just as intently, a smile on her face I couldn't decide was smug, hopeful, or just really, really happy. She looked like she was wound tight, about to go bounding off at any moment. I almost wanted to sit on her lap, just to try and weight her down enough for her to sit still.

"I am supposed to be getting out now," she said.

"Yep," I said, trying not to smile.

"You could walk me to the door," she sort of pointed out.

"Isn't that the sort of thing a date would do?" I asked. "You know, waiting for a kiss and all?"

She tried not to smile wider, "What? You're not waiting for one?"

I snorted, "Not as such."

"Meaning what?" she asked.

"I'm not waiting," I said. "If I want to kiss you, I'll ask. It's up to you what you'll do. What will happen will happen."

"You seemed sort of resigned," she said.

"I am," I said. "You're good for me, Jos. I don't know if I'm good for you yet, but I'd like to be. Someday, I probably will be. But it isn't now, and I'm sort of okay with that. I'm not looking to run away, and I'm not trying to rush things either."

"And by rush," she asked, "you mean diving into my pants?"

I laugh at the mental image that brings up.

"Yeah," I said. "No diving for me."

She shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe..."

I looked at her quizzically, "Maybe?"

"Maybe," she said, "a little swim might be okay. Just a little one..."

She slid towards me on the seat, moving the conversation hearts to the dash. She came up to me, her bag pushed behind her. She put her hands on my face, meeting me half way. My arm slid around her, but I don't move. I didn't meet her. Instead, I crooked my thumb under her chin, tilting her head to one side. She let me, her eyes fluttering shut as I placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

"I can wait," I said. "We just had a good night and you're excited, but I get it now. You would rather wait, for it to be more. More from me. That's important to you. So, I can wait."

She sighed, tucking her forehead against my chin as she pulled me to her, her hands knotting in my shirt, her whole body seeming to flex against me.

"That," she said, "is all kinds of not fair! You saying no to me just makes me want you more, for all the right reason! But, doing so would be all sorts of wrong! Can't... Can't you just lie to me?"

I smiled, squeezing her shoulders, "You're better than that."

She sighed again, "Well, damn. That just completely backfired on me! I would have thought for sure you would have been game for a few more mistakes before you came around. Don't get me wrong; you so totally rock, and I'm proud of you. But damn, you could have at least rounded second first."

I considered, then unobtrusively reach down and put my opposite hand on her closest boob. She laughed, shoving me away from her. I clattered hard against the door, nearly knocking my head against the window.

"Oh my god!" she said, still laughing, "I'm so sorry! You're a jerk! But I'm still sorry."

I mock rubbed the back of my head.

"Totally worth it," I said, as though in pain.

"Oh shut up, you ass," she said, still laughing.

"Bitch," I said back.

She looked sideways at me, "Don't you know it!"

She started collecting her bag.

"Friday?" I asked.

"Friday," she agreed.

"Do you want me to come get you?" I offered.

"Maybe," said mysteriously. "I've got something in the works. We'll see."

"Okay," I said.

She smiled at me, a challenge in her look, something that made me think she was scheming on how to get back at me for groping her.

"Good night," she said.

"Night," I said.

She closed the door.

I watched her go, unabashedly watching the swish of her hips, her legs, the very epitome of hating to see her leave but loving to watch her go.

I remembered the feel of her up against me, under my palm. I knew that these were memories that would stay with me a long time. But, had I known what was to come, I would have done things differently.


	8. Chapter 8: Denials

Friday came at last. School came and went. I was excited to see Josie and still had no idea how she was getting here or what she was up to. I called her after I got home, worked out, showered, and put on the outfit I had picked out on Wednesday. I was considering changing shirts when she picked up.

"'ello?"

"Hey," I said.

"Hey yourself," she said, sounding pleased. "What's up?"

Her voice sounded great for some reason. I realized that I was looking forward to this immensely.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm just wondering when you're getting here."

"Eager much!" she chortled. "Don't worry. Your patience will be rewarded tonight."

I grinned, "I don't know about all that. I just want to see you. How long has it been now? Two or three months?"

She laughed, "Shut up! Okay, I'll meet you at your place."

"We're supposed to be carpooling from Newton Outfitters," I said, pulling a different shirt out of the closet and throwing it on the bed while I started unbuttoning my shirt with one hand while holding the phone with the other. "Do you know where that is? Will it work better if I meet you there?"

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll be at your place as in like twenty minutes."

I sighed, "Okay."

"Oh, don't be like that!" she laughed. "Who's a grumpy Ben?"

"Oh shut up!" I said, grinning. "Just get over here."

"No pouncing," she said. "You know the rule."

"What rule?" I demanded.

"We're waiting," she pointed out, but something about her tone made me think she wasn't too happy about it either.

"I hate waiting," I mumbled, putting on the new shirt.

"I know," she said, sounding not entirely patient herself. "But, it's gonna be worth it."

She was right. It was going to be.

"See you in a minute," I said.

"Bye," she said.

"M'bye," I said.

I checked the time. 5:02. By 5:23, I was starting to get impatient. At 5:46, I called.

"Hello," answered Belinda.

"Hey," I said. "It's me, Ben. Have you heard from Josie? She running late."

"No," said Belinda pleasantly, "I haven't. Maybe had some car troub-"

There was a sudden pounding on her end of the line and a voice, saying something I couldn't hear.

"Belinda?" I asked.

The line disconnected.

I called back. No answer. I tried again. Nothing. I tried at third time. Busy. Again, busy. And again. And again.

I got in the truck.

I was just about half way when I saw it.

Flashing lights. It was an accident.

Two cruisers were parked on the side of the road. One of them was my mother.

"Ben," she called when I pulled over.

"What happened?" I cried nearly frantic. "Who is it? What happened?"

"Whoa!" she said, grabbing me and keeping me from going over to the car. There were very dark tire marks, crossing the entire road, nearly running off the north side of the road and then back to the less wooded south side of the road. The car itself was in pieces. The roof was lying on the shoulder. The car itself looked like it had flipped end over end at least twice. It had taken out a section of small trees and was more the fifty feet off the road. There was glass everywhere.

"What happened?" I demanded, close to tears now.

"Ben," Mom said. "Calm down. We don't know what happened yet. There's nobody here."

"What?" I asked, finally shaken out of my panicked state.

"A passerby called it in," she said. "There's no sight of the driver. Nobody, not even any blood. We haven't had time to go over everything yet. It's just a mess. Why are you out here?"

I tried to get a better look at the mangled wreck.

"Who's is it?" I asked. The car, I mean.

"It's not a local," she said. "Best we can tell, it belonged to someone on the res, but they don't always keep up the best registration practices over there."

I looked closer.

I swallowed, "It's the Rabbit."

Mom looked at me.

"Yeah," she said, not catching on. "It's a Volkswagen Rabbit. Ben, do you know who's car this is?"

"Josie," I said.

Suddenly, something hit me hard in the chest. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't moving forward.

"Josie!" I screamed. "Josie! Josie!"

"Oh Jesus," I heard my mother's voice, low and rough. "Help me!"

A second pair of arms wrapped around me and after a scuffle and a tussle, I was trying desperately to figure out how to get out of the back of a police cruiser. She was dead. I knew it! What happened?!

A fire truck and an ambulance showed. The number of people here other than me more than quadrupled, and soon they were searching everywhere. Every ditch and hollow, every tree and scrub, up and down both sides of the street. I kept waiting for something, a call for the paramedics, a dismayed discovery, something, anything! But nothing.

Twenty-six and a quarter billion years later, Mom slid into the back seat beside me. I was still. I wasn't anything.

"Ben?" she asked. "Can you hear me?"

I made some sort of throat sound.

"I can't get ahold of Lin," she said. "Harriet is having one of her kids run over. I need you to talk to me. Tell me what happened."

It sort of all just spilled out in a monotone. The movie, the call, her late, me trying to track her down, everything.

"You didn't know how she was getting to the house?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I didn't know the car could drive yet. She was still working on it, last I heard."

"But you don't know for sure that's how she was getting there?"

"No," I said. "Not for sure."

"Okay," she said. She pulled out her phone and hit a few buttons. She put it to her ear.

"Oh thank god," she said. "Belinda. It's Carrie. I-"

She paused.

"No-" she tried again. "No, Belinda, listen to me! Do you know where Jocelyn is?"

She sat up straighter.

"Oh," she said. "I see. Are you aware that her vehicle is lying on the side of the 110, just after the west end of Goodman Mainline, in multiple pieces?"

Another pause.

"It wasn't reported stolen," she said angrily.

Pause.

"How sick are we talking?" she asked.

Long pause.

"I understand," she said in a professional tone. "I'll do that. Take care."

She hung up.

"Josie is fine," she said. "Or, at least, she not hurt. She's ill. She may not be well enough for visitors for a few days, at least."

"I don't care," I said. "I'm going."

I tried to get out of the car and had no more success than I did before.

"Ben, no," she said. "I understand you're upset. I'm not happy about it either. There is something fishy going on here, but I'm not sure what it is. I thought, for a minute..."

"What?" I asked.

"It's nothing," she said.

"No, what?" I insist.

She looked down, after a minute, she looked up again.

"We have been getting some strange reports," she said. "Weird things, it gets in your head after a while."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well," she said. "You remember when I said we had a missing hiker?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, we have had another," she said. "And we have gotten some strange animal reports. Tracks that we have never seen before; as big as a bear but not a bear. We have heard stories of a hunter or two spotting this thing. They say it is as big as a grizzly, only black. And when we got the report tonight, the caller said they saw a bear nosing the vehicle, as though it was trying to get at it or inside it or something. I have no idea what this is about, and what's going on, and I don't like it when I have more questions than answers."

I nodded, but I wasn't listening. My mind was on one thing; I needed to get to Josie. I didn't care from getting sick. I didn't care from wrecks and bears or anything. I just needed to see her with my own two eyes, to hold her hand and make sure that she was okay.

"You need to go home," said mom, as though she could see into me.

I caved.

"Okay," I said.

I realized too late that I had given in too easily. She looked suspiciously at me.

"I'm going to call the house line in twenty minutes," she said. "I expect you to be there."

I glared at her, "Fine."

I got in my truck just as a news crew pulled up. I took off, heading back the way I came, but not all the way. I doubled back around, taking Quillayute Rd around to Mora and back to the far side of the 110. I was starting to get close to the reservation, on a long flat stretch of road with the trees high to either side, when I spotted someone in the middle distance, standing in the middle of the road. I slowed. Even before I came to a full stop, I could tell it was Sam.

I got out of the truck, slowly.

"Sam," I said. "What are you doing out here?"

She stood tall, strong, proud, and while there wasn't anything overtly threatening about her posture, I got the impression that it could be dangerous if I was not careful.

"Ben," she said. "You have been a friend to the tribe and respect our traditions more than most outsiders. When I say this, understand that I mean no slight or disrespect. Get back in your truck and go home. You are not welcome on our land."

I stood my ground. She stood hers.

"Why?" I asked.

She looked at me a long moment.

"Many reasons," she said. "The greatest of which is that your mother told you to go home."

Damn it. Who had she called?

I looked at the road, my anger redoubling.

"I need to see Josie," I said. "To make sure that she is okay."

"She is fine," said Sam.

"With all due respect," I said, "I thought she was dead tonight. I am not prepared to trust anything but the evidence of my eyes."

She considered.

"How about the evidence of your ears?" she asked.

I looked up, "What do you mean?"

She nodded, "In thirty minutes, your home phone will ring. It will be her. You can talk then."

"But, I-"

She looked sharply at me, and I was cowed.

Without another word, I drive home. I didn't bother going the other way around, and I guess Mom didn't catch me driving by in the night. I got home and waited by the phone. After nearly an hour, the phone rang.

"Josie?" I cried.

"I'm fine."

It was her. Her voice was quiet and rough, but it was her.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said again almost the same exact way.

"Can I come see you?" I asked.

"No," she said.

"When can I?" I asked.

"Can't," she murmured.

"What?" I asked.

"I can't!" she snarled. "Leave me alone!"

The phone went dead.

"Ben?"

I tried to turn and find the voice but it hurt. Stiff muscles pulled and strained.

"It's nearly four in the morning," she said. "What are you still doing up? And why are the lights off?"

I didn't say anything.

"What happened?" she said.

She wanted me to go back, to relive it. I couldn't. It was too close, too raw, too easy to destroy myself.

"I'm going to bed," I said, and I did. I got up to go the bathroom, where I got water. Otherwise, I stayed in bed. I called in sick for my Saturday shift, which they said was fine. It was the first time I ever missed work. I didn't do homework or housework. I didn't answer when mom asked how I was doing. I didn't say anything.

"Not as bad," I mumbled to myself Sunday night as I laid there, drifting off. "Not as bad, but bad enough."

I spent the next week as I had for the better part of the year. In the early hours of Monday morning, I awoke much earlier than usual, probably owing to the above average time I spent unmoving. In that time, I fixed my iPod and did all homework due first period. First period, I did the rest. I ate lunch in my car. I spoke to no one outside of the necessity for class. I went home. I did homework. I cleaned. I worked. I laundered. I ate. I slept. I repeated.

I held off calling The Blacks for as long as I could. By Wednesday, I was calling twice a day. It wasn't until Friday that I got an answer.

"Hello?" answered Belinda.

"Hey," I said. "It's me, Ben."

"Ah, Ben," she said, as though uncomfortable. "Now is not really the best time."

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Ben," she said. "This is a family matter. Josie will reconnect with you if and when she is ready, and not before."

"Belinda, please," I said. "I don't understand."

There was a quiet moment.

"Ben," she said. "There isn't anything more that you can do here. Please don't call again."

She hung up.

I broke the phone. I smashed my fist against the counter again and again. The phone was just collateral. The counter didn't fair to well either. I couldn't stand it. I got in my truck and drove.

I knew what was happening. I don't know how I knew, but I knew. It didn't help that Sam was guarding the road last Friday. Everything else fit itself into place from there. She had joined Sam's gang.

This time, without being forewarned, she wasn't there to stop me. I drove up to the street and turned off the engine, coasting the last few houses, hoping to avoid being noticed.

It didn't matter. She was waiting.

Had I not known her so well, I wouldn't have recognized her at all. Her clothing was the same, for the most part, loose and minimal, but she was so different. She stood, radiating an almost nervous energy, held in check by a massively pissed off attitude that I could see from here. She stood as though she was about to run off a bully, or maybe like she was the bully. There was no joy in her, no hope, no warm, tenderhearted self-assured girl anywhere in her. She looked like Quinn, like Sam.

The change in her manner and expression was nothing to that of her appearance and physicality. Her hair, her satiny beautiful straight black hair that had nearly fallen to her waist was almost nearly gone. It was cropped short, all but some finger-length locks towards the front that fell tousled about her eyes. Her bare arms and legs were taught with corded muscle, her body carrying a bulk I hadn't seen on her previously, leaving her well built and athletic but no less feminine. To my astonishment, I realized that she had grown too. She was now only a little shorter than me, maybe less than two inches. Given her dense physique, she possibly outweighed me now.

I pulled over and got out of the truck. As I moved towards her, she stepped back with a limber, agile grace that kept her at the same distance from me.

"Josie," I said, coming to a halt, my hands up, palms front. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

She had kept her eyes averted. Now, she looked at me.

There was nothing there. I looked, trying to see the light and life that usually sang in them, even a hint of recognition, anything, but no. It felt almost like I wasn't looking at a person anymore.

"You were told," she said in a dead, inflectionless voice. "You were told not to come here."

"Josie, I-" I started, but she cut me off with a harsh, biting, "No!"

I shut up.

"We can't be friends anymore," she said. "It's over between us."

"No," I said, my voice small and far away, lost.

"It's done," she said. "We're through."

I knew I was crying. I didn't care. My tears became angry tears.

"What?" I said, "So all that talk about being there for me, about us being good together, what, that's just gone away? It's done now? It's over? Things just didn't work out, so why bother?"

"It's different now," she said. "I'm different now. We can't be together. It doesn't matter."

"I know!" I said. "I know why you are saying this! It's Sam, isn't it?! You joined her gang and now you're like Quinn. You're turning your back on all your friends! Why does everyone keep walking away from me as soon as things get hard?!"

She flinched. Hard. For a moment, I wasn't sure what I was seeing. It was like, she was there, but my brain was losing the ability to interpret what my eyes could see. She almost went down on one knee but came back up.

"Jos?" I asked, worried for her.

"Did you know?" she asked harshly.

"What?" I asked.

"Did you know," she said again, "or was I the one who told you?"

"Told me what?" I asked. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't make me say it," she said. "I don't..."

"Say what?" I said, getting angrier again. "Just tell me!"

"That the Cullens were wreaking, bloodsucking vampires!" she howled.

I was sitting down. I wasn't sure how I got there. I was just sitting down on the ground, feeling like a white hot, barbed shaft of steel was being drawn through my chest, while twisting at high speeds.

She stood facing me, her arms apart, her legs planted, her whole body quiver on every exhale as she drew deep, angry breaths.

"I told you..." she snarled. "Not to... make me... say it..."

Tears fell. I hid my face behind my hands. It hurt. It hurt so badly. They existed. I was starting to forget. I was starting to believe they hadn't been real. How could I miss what couldn't be?

It wasn't until I realized that she hadn't moved, that the space between us was still there, that I knew she was right. It was different now. I didn't matter to her anymore. She couldn't have let me hurt like that and done nothing if she still cared at all about me.

I looked up and saw Quinn and some other girl I didn't know coming around the side of the house. They each put a hand on Josie's shoulders.

It didn't matter to me. As soon as I saw them, I was scrambling up and heading for the truck. I was glad Sam wasn't here because I might have tried to run her down. As soon as the engine was started, I was driving away.

I don't know where I went. I was so emotional, I don't really recall much. The sun was just about to start setting when I realized where I was going. And for the first time since that day, I didn't stop myself.

The drive was the same. The lawn was overgrown. I wondered who did the upkeep. No one now. All furniture I could see was covered in white sheets. The garage was closed up. It looked as though it hadn't been touched in nearly a year, as it hadn't. But it was here. They were real. It had all happened.

I felt sick. I felt unhinged. How was I supposed to go on living my life when I knew that they, that... she... was out there. Could I find... them? Would they let me? They didn't go to L.A. as their cover story entailed. Maybe there was something-

I wasn't alone. I turned and looked up. Naturally, upon my first visit here, after however many hours and days and months, telling myself they weren't real, telling myself they couldn't exist, questioning my sanity, after all of that, upon my first visit back, I would be met by a vampire.

I didn't recognize the dark skinned immortal as she stood there, watching me, which is why I was so surprised when she said, "Hello Ben."

It was then that I remembered her.

"Laurent," I said, standing straighter, surprised that I could remember the name and remember it so clearly. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled, "You remember me? How so very charming! I had not expected to find you here. I came to call on the Cullens. Are you alright?"

I stood up from where I had nearly slumped. After wanting to hear their names again after so long, it didn't seem fair that it should debilitate me so.

"I'm fine," I said. "I've had a hard time lately. What brings you by here?"

She smiled and said, conspiratorially, "You wouldn't like it if I told you."

"Oh?" I asked. It suddenly occurred to me that I was talking to a vampire. A vampire known for killing humans. I was alone. I could very easily die here.

"You see," she said, "Jamie and Victor were not very close to me, but they were close to each other. And he is not altogether happy with your little friends for how they acted towards Jamie. So, Victor asked me to visit, to see if they had returned, so that he might decide to make a meal of you. He really doesn't like you, I'm afraid, and he believes that this is the purest vengeance he can get; a mate for a mate. I do not think he can decide on killing you in front of your Edwina or simply dropping your remains before her, after hours and hours of tortures and torment. However, fortunately for you, I found you first."

The only thing keeping me on my feet and not curled fetal in anguish was fear for my life. I took a step back towards my truck.

"Please," she said with a dismissive chortle. "Do not insult me! I could give you an hour head start and have you in under ten minutes. If it is a comfort to you, I will make it quick. You needn't worry about anything else ever again."

This was it. I was about to die. How many times had I escaped so far? Five? Maybe six? Or seven? I had no idea anymore. These were my last minutes on earth. I knew how I wanted to spend them.

I felt cold, the fingers interlocking with mine. I could almost feel the pressure of her proximity, standing behind me, could feel the turbulence as she whispered at my ear, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

"No," I said. "It's not. You left me. You left. And now I'm going to die without ever telling you how stupid you were..."

"What was that?" asked Laurent.

"Everything will be alright," she said in my ear. "I'm here."

"No," I cried, tears falling. "You're not!"

"I've always been here," she said, "and I always will be."

"What?" said Laurent, standing straighter. "No! What are you?"

"What?" I asked, opening my eyes to look at her. She wasn't looking to me. She was looking at the woods.

I don't hear a sound. The large shadow could have been anything in the coming twilight. It formed under the tree cover and came on, and I lost all vestiges of myself in awe and fear.

It was huge. It was hard to convey the scope of it. Even on all fours, it's shoulder was as high as mine. It moved silently, all except the barely audible dripping of slather from its teeth and the growl so deep I almost couldn't hear it. The black wolf padded forward, it's eyes on Laurent, for it was a wolf, not some bear. It had death on its mind as surely as she had had it on hers only moments before. I had no idea how long it might take for her to kill the creature. It certainly looked formidable enough. And then, I saw that it wasn't alone.

More came, from different angles and distances, hedging her in, surrounding her. There was at least four that I could see, one passing so close to me that I could have reached out and touched it. They had no interest in me whatever, and it was then that I realized I might not die here.

Suddenly, the closest one, a massive red-brown wolf, one of the largest, halted it's growling to bring large, dark eyes to me. The face was extremely expressive, somehow conveying something akin to surprise.

It was at that moment she chose to make her move. The vampire blurred out of my perception, running flat out into the coming night. With a snarl, the wolves bent low, running after her, and while their speed was impressive for their size, I could still see them as they leapt after her.

As soon as they were clear, I ran for the truck. I practically stalled out the machine more than once, fighting to make it hurry as I drove for home at the vehicles top speed. It was sputtering and wheezing by the time I made it there. Leaping out of the truck, I made it inside before I slowed down.

"Whoa," said Mom. "Where's the fire?"

I was breathing hard and looking stunned.

"Ben," she asked, seeing my distress now. "What happened?"

"I saw them," I said, breathlessly.

"Saw who?" she asked, coming over to look at me.

"The wolves," I said. I was a bit hysterical.

"What?" she demanded. "What wolves?"

"The big ones," I said. "The ones you were getting sightings of and all that. I saw them."

"Where?" she demanded again. "How many were there?"

"At..." I swallowed. "At the mansion."

"The man-" she asked but came up short. "Oh. Okay. What were they doing there?"

I realized now that I really shouldn't be telling her any of this. It skated too close to secrets I had promised to keep, no matter what. Secrets that apparently Josie knew now where real. Now that I was really thinking about it, it made sense. She found out the truth, or, rather, started believing it was the truth. It wasn't surprising that she no longer wanted anything to do with me, knowing that... that I used to be friendly with, from her point of view, her enemies.

"Ben," Mom snapped me out of it.

"Oh," I said. "There were maybe five of them."

"Five?" She asked. "How big are we talking?"

I didn't really feel comfortable telling the truth at this point. The last thing I wanted was for my mom to go trundling through the woods with a bunch of rangers looking for them.

"I'm not exactly sure," I said. "I wasn't that close. They were by the back river, but from that distance, I could still tell that they were very large."

"Okay," she said. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She looked like her mind was on other things, so it was surprising when she didn't notice how hunched I was, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I made some fish."

"I'll eat later," I said, and went up to my room. I closed the door, leaning against it and sliding slowly to the floor, drooping under the weight of everything that I felt.

"Not as bad," I kept muttering over and over. "Not as bad."

I wanted to shut my stupid mouth, but it was, like, the one thing that kept me from going truly nuts. I hadn't felt this alone in a long time and hadn't been aware of it back then. Now, I couldn't not be aware of it. It was like some part of my brain, that part that inured me to pain and suffering, had decided to go on vacation. I couldn't shut this out and I didn't know why.

I didn't go back downstairs. I wasn't all that hungry. It wasn't unbearably painful, but it was unbearably frustrating. It felt as though there was nothing I could do to fix this. I wanted to make it better, talk it out, listen, learning, work at it, but there didn't seem to be anything I could do. Josie didn't want anything more to do with me, which seemed tacitly unfair to me. My past affiliations were just that, past, and there was nothing I could do to undo them any more than Josie could change her heritage. It was just so... so frustrating!

I heard my mother go to bed. I went downstairs just long enough to eat a small bowl of granola before returning upstairs for bed. It was late, but I did my exercises anyway. Afterward, I had my shower and was coming back into my room then I heard it and froze.

It was a scuffling, a scrap, just outside my window. I felt suddenly frightened. What if Laurent had escaped? Could she find me? I quickly dismissed this idea. If it was her, I'd never know it. I would be dead before I could wonder about it.

"Ben," someone whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. "Damn it, Ben, open up!"

"Josie?" I asked, opening the window.

She was in the nearby tree, bowing the whole damn thing. As soon as I got the window open, she was swaying back.

"Move!" she complained in a harsh whisper. I stumbled backward, and with a nearly silent, liquid elegance, she bounded in the open window, landing on bent knees and her palms. I had made more noise than she had, and it still wasn't enough to get my mom up.

She straightened, as I did. Looking at me in the near darkness of the room. She wore the same cutoff jeans and slightly shredded T-shirt she had on before and no shoes. I was right; she was nearly as tall as I was now, and just as toned and built as I, if not more so. Her expression was more than a little distant but was more relaxed than it had been earlier.

I was about to ask her what the hell she was doing in my room when she said, fighting a smile, "Your towel is slipping."

I suddenly remembered that I was, in fact, wearing only a towel, having just gotten out of the shower. I reached for the loosening terrycloth and clamped it firmly in place with both hands.

"Had I known what I was leaping into, I might have come sooner," she said, almost teasingly.

"What are you doing here, Jocelyn?" I exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

She looked wounded, then seemed to shake it off, a look of self-reproach about her.

"I know," she said. "I know. And I'm sorry. I was pissed off before. I didn't expect you, and I couldn't explain and I was frustrated."

"Couldn't explain what?" I asked.

"Exactly," she exclaimed quietly, then sighed.

I shook my head, "You're not making any sense."

"I know," she said. "I can't tell you..."

Her voice dropped off, weirdly. From her eyes, even in the low light, I could tell she was trying to convey something, communicate more than just with her eyes, but her mouth remained closed and unmoving.

"You can't tell me what?" I said and didn't need her condescending look to feel like an idiot.

"Okay," I conceded. "Duh."

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "I don't mean to embarrass you, but could you, ya know, put on some pants or something. It's really hard talking to you like this."

I flushed, turning to where I kept a drawer of sleep clothes. I looked at the drawer handle and then my hands.

She sighed, walked smoothly over, opened the drawer then went to stand in the corner, her back to me.

"Sorry," I said as I dropped the towel on the rack next to the dresser and slipped on boxers. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," she said to the corner.

I slid on a shirt, "Huh?"

She snorted, "How easy would it be for you to have a conversation with a freshly showered me if I was only wearing a towel?"

The thought flipped through my head in full, technicolor detail, fully immersive and complete with illusory scent. I immediately went to thinking about moldy bread and math problems as I quickly decided against the usual sweat pants that offered zero concealment before grabbing a pair of clean jeans that could wear until she left.

"What do you want?" I said almost snidely. I wanted her gone. I didn't want her here if all she was going to do was...

She crossed the room and took my face in her hands, and so very gently, pressed her forehead to mine, her eyes closing. I got the impression that she desperately wanted to kiss me, but didn't for any number of reasons. Without a conscious thought, I laced my arms around the small of her back, drawing her to me. I had missed her beyond words, and I didn't care but that she was here and was, for the moment, the Josie I knew so well.

"You bitch," I murmured, squeezing tight. "I'm trying to be mad at you."

She stared at me, then tried very hard to stifle a belly laugh that was trying to work its way out her mouth. She hugged me to her.

"I missed you too, you big jerk," she said, sounding as though she might be a bit teary.

She felt so good against me. Too good. I was decidedly happy I had gone with the jeans.

"Why are you here," I asked, "really?"

"I can't tell you why," she said.

"Then why-" I started, but she cut me off, emphasizing the words, "Because I can't tell you why."

She couldn't tell me, but she wanted me to know.

I nodded, leaning back. She didn't allow to loose myself from her grasp but still let us far enough apart to allow me to see her.

"Can you give me a hint?" I asked, floundering for something.

She looked frustrated, concerned almost, but then something suddenly came into her thoughts.

"Oh," she said, a little too loudly. "Oh!"

I put my hand over her mouth, and she started laughing, which made me push harder. One of us lost balance and took the other one down with us. We toppled against my bed, breaking our fall and preventing any suspicious thumps. She hugged me to her again, and we both tried not to laugh as we laid on the floor, just sort of holding on to the other.

"I missed you," she said again, and we resettled our interlocked legs more comfortably.

"You know," she said. "I already told it to you."

"What?" I said. "You mean... about the Cul-"

"No," she whispered harshly. "Before that."

I thought about it. There wasn't much about that night that I remembered in detail. Her telling me the girl I had been crushing on wasn't a girl, wasn't human at all, was pretty mind-blowing at the time.

"I don't remember," I said. Other things started intruding. Her warmth against me. The memory of how soft she had felt under my hand. Her hip, under my hand now, a few of my fingertips against her smooth skin.

"Mmm," she breathed. "You... that's not allowed. You're letting yourself be distracting- ted! You're distracted. Focus Ben. Come on! I know you can do this."

I couldn't not look at her lips. I wanted to feel them again.

"I have to go," she said, as though to herself as much as to me.

"What?" I protested. "No."

She started to disentangle herself and get up. I found myself wanting to hold onto her, to grab clothing, but there wasn't much to hold onto without grabbing her somewhere indecent. I considered, but decided against it. Mostly.

I through my arms around her from behind as she headed to the window.

"Don't go," I protested.

"Ben," she said. I realized my hand was on something pleasantly soft and round. Oops.

I moved my hand but didn't let go.

"Please," I said.

She turned back to me.

"I have to," she said. "If I don't, I'm going to end up doing something we will both regret."

"We won't regret it," I asserted. "Not if we both want..."

"We will," she said. "You know it."

I did. I don't want to think about that. She smelled amazing. Sort of woodsy and sweet, not really floral, most like forest and freshly turned earth and something entirely appealing to that caveman part of me. It was hard to think.

"I want-" I started.

"To figure this out," she said. "You can do it. I know you can. After that, we might have a chance. There might be a way. If... if you still want to..."

"I want to..." I said, my hands finding her hips.

"This isn't a joke, Ben," she said angrily. "This is important. If you don't figure this out, then this is it. I won't be able to come back a second time."

Her mouth stopped again, and she looked pained, panicked.

My hands didn't drop. They went around her and held her to me.

"Okay," I said. "Okay, Josie. I'm listening. I get it. I'll take this seriously."

She squeezed me tightly.

"You're my best friend," she said. "And this is really tough. I don't want to lose you. I... I need you. Please. Please."

"Sure," I said, "sure. I've got this. I'll figure it out."

She laughed, drawing back, "You better."

I looked into her dark eyes, just visible in the dim light. She looked worn, unhappy, so much like what I imagined I must look like. I reached out, stroking her cheek. She closed her eyes, nestling against my palm, her hand coming up to cradle mine, her lips just grazing the edge of my thumb.

"Please," she said. "I don't want to lose you. I'll understand if I do, but I want to know, ya know? Come see me, one way, or the other."

She let go, turning back to the window.

"Jos," I said, "I-"

She spun back to me, and we met in equal measure, kissing passionately, desperately, as though this might be the last time, though neither of us wanted that. She ripped from my embrace, disappearing out the window and into the night before I could say another word.

I stood, staring for a long time. Finally, I stripped off the jeans and fell into bed, not even having the energy to put on different pants. I laid there for a long time, confused and forlorn, finally falling off to sleep.

That night, I had an uneasy dream. I was on the beach with Josie. We were talking and enjoying the sun, then she looked around, as though sensing something I could not. She grabbed my arm and tried to drag me through the trees.

"Come on, Ben," she said. "We have to go, we have to run!"

I don't know how I knew, but I knew that something was stalking us, something that I couldn't see. I finally took the hint and we made for the trees. It felt like the trees were some kind of safe line, as though crossing them would protect us. She finally pushed me behind a tree to hide me, staying on the beach side of the line. As I stood there, looking around, I realized I wasn't alone.

I turned, and there she was. Edwina was there amongst the trees, smiling with long tipped fangs. I smiled back, welcoming, until a red-brown wolf came tearing through the tree line behind me, racing straight for her, snarling and snapping. She turned her head and looked back at me with familiar dark eyes. Turning back to Edwina, who snarled, the two ran at each other.

"No!" I found myself screaming. "Don't hurt her!"

I shot up in bed, unable to keep my voice down, crying out.

No, it wasn't possible. How could it be possible? What was real anymore? Was every single mythical thing that had ever been really true? Was there no such thing as impossible any longer?

I looked at the clock. It was just about twenty until seven. I had my shift that morning. Luckily, it was a half day. That was good. I had places to be.


	9. Chapter 9: Revelations

I couldn't get back to sleep so I worked out. Hard. I did my daily routine more than twice over, which was more even than my usual weekend workout. I showered, had breakfast and was cleaning when mom came out of her room.

"Work this morning?" she asked, looking at me dusting the living room with a slightly anxious cast.

"Yeah," I said. "I am going to try and see Josie after that."

I wasn't sure if it was the subject or the fact that these were more words than I had freely offered up since last weekend.

"Okay," she said. "Are you sure? I've never known the Blacks to be standoffish with our family, but they do things their way in La Push."

"I'm sure," I said. "I'll go after work. I don't know how long I'll be."

"Okay," she said. "If it is dusk before you'll be home, call and leave a message."

"I will," I said.

She grabbed her gear and left. I made my lunch and did the same.

Work was an utterly, unbelievable slog.

Mickie, who had noticed how distant and morose I had been all week, was now seeing me as animated and accessible again.

"Hey," she said, leaning on the counter and trying to show off what cleavage she had. I was wholly unimpressed, for multiple reasons.

"Hi," I said, filling in new item numbers to the store's inventory system.

She looked miffed but tried to hide it.

"Did you break up with your res girlfriend?" she asked, a bit derisively.

"Wasn't my girlfriend," I said flatly, not caring enough to use whole sentences.

She almost pouted, "So, then why haven't you asked me out?"

"I don't date," I said, more flatly.

"We don't have to date," she said, a thinly veil innuendo in her tone. "It doesn't matter to me... what we do."

She wasn't going to stop.

"Mickie," I said, taking my hands off the keyboard, "I am an employee at my place of employment. You just propositioned to me something unquestionably elicit. I am not only not interested, but I have no problem telling your dad about this. I'm sure he might have some issues with you opening up his business to potential lawsuits."

She looked utterly horrified.

"You don't have to be such an asshole about it," she sniffed, disappearing into the break room. I looked up at the camera that overlooked the counter, rolling my eyes before going back to work. She came back out a few minutes later, not even looking at me as she left, which was a good sign. A few minutes later, her dad walking out of the back room.

"Hey, Ben," he said, with no indication at all that she had told him anything.

"Mickie went home," he said, with the same sort of tone that practically had "that time of the month" tacked onto it. "What's feeling well. Business is looking pretty dead today. I just found out that there is a meet near Colville. If you want, you can take off a little early today."

"I'll leave now," I said quickly. I had only been at work for about three hours.

"If you don't mind," I added quickly. He looked stunned but nodded.

"Sure, Ben," he said. "Enjoy your Saturday."

I took off. I hadn't eaten lunch, but I wasn't hungry anyway. I took it easy, not wanting to stall out the truck, making it to Josie's without delay.

As I pulled up and hopped out, Belinda was negotiating the door and ramp to come out to me.

"Ben," she said, a bit guardedly. "Josie isn't here."

"I know," I said.

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"No," I said, catching her eye, "I know."

She looked surprised, which soon became weary distrust.

"I see," she said.

"She told me to come and talk to her when..." I said, "when I was ready. I am not trying to make this harder for her or anything. I just want-"

"You!" whooped a voice.

I looked up. Storming down the street was a girl I had never seen before, but from her dress and her tall, athletic features, it was no doubt it was one of Sam's gang. Two others were in her wake, Quinn and another I didn't know.

"What are you doing here?!" she roared. "You don't belong here!"

"Paula," said Quinn, her voice utterly emotionless. "You're losing it."

"Don't tell me how I am!" she bellowed, coming at me.

"Don't run!" said the other, not Quinn. It took me a moment for her to realize she was talking to me. I hadn't planned on it. It suddenly occurred to me that not running was very important and that running was what a sane person would have done. Man, coming here was stupid. When would I realize just how dangerous these supernatural creatures were?

I stepped back as she entered my personal space, reflexively. I kept moving backwards, not exactly running, but keeping my distance.

"Paula!"

The call was weird, sort of high pitched. It was hard to make sense of it. I turned, as did Paula. Josie was running full out, so fast she could probably outrun a car. She collided with Paula, slamming her in the chest, throwing her up and backwards. The force carried high, clearing one corner of the roof, landing somewhere out of sight behind the house.

"Get him out of here!" she called running around the house, not even slowing down. "Take him to Sam's!"

There was a string of snares coming from behind the house. Soon after Josie rounded the house, more snares split the air, soon dying away into the woods.

Belinda sighed, "At least they didn't trash the house."

"What are you doing here, Ben?" asked Quinn, looking worried and uncomfortable.

"Josie came to visit me last night," I explained.

"And?" she asked. "What did she say to you?"

"She told me," I said. The two remaining gang members laughed.

"No she didn't," said the other.

Oh. They were right. She hadn't.

"She did," I sighed, "just not last night. She told me over a year ago."

They looked at each other and sighed too.

"Great," said Quinn. "So, now what?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're not a member of the tribe," she said. "The last time anyone outside of the tribe knew, there was a treaty involved."

I almost laughed.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," I protested. "Who would believe me anyway?"

They looked at each other, not sure what to make of my comment.

"Come on," says Quinn, walking towards the truck.

"What?" I asked. "Where are we going?"

"Sam's," said the other. "I'm Karen, by the way."

"Ben," I replied, before feeling like a major idiot.

Karen jumped in the back, and Quinn and I climbed into the cab.

"At last," she said, betraying a bit of her old self, "I have you alone."

I couldn't help but snort, "Riiiight..."

She laughed, "A girl can dream. But then again, maybe not. You don't exactly have great taste in women, and I would want to risk their taste still being there."

I frowned, "Josie is not that bad."

She grinned, "Wasn't just talking about Josie."

"Oh," I said. "Right. Um... Where am I going?"

"You want me to drive?" she asked.

"No!" I said loudly. "It's my truck. I'll drive. Just tell me where."

She started giving me directions. Karen looked perfectly at home in the back. At last, we came to this quaint house on the edge of the woods. It was nicely kept, everything neat and in great repair, given how old the house looked. I parked, and Karen gave a high call as we unloaded. We walked towards the house, when Karen grabs my arm, almost covertly.

"Hey," she said quietly, "look, Sam is not going to be happy about this. So, if you want her on your side, you should get Mason on your side."

"Okay," I said, not sure what she was talking about.

"Just, be cool, alright?" she asked, evasively. "It was no one's fault. But you need to know what you're in for here. Just be cool."

"Okay," I said, still having no idea but determined nonetheless. Josie needed me, and I needed her. I wasn't going to try and guess who needed who more, but I was willing to work to having her in my life.

We walked into the house without knocking, Quinn up front and Karen bringing up the rear. It was awesome inside, bright and spacious, way more put together than even the well-kept exterior would suggest. It was immediately homey and comfortable, and while I took a minute to take in the traditional tribal decor and handcrafted furniture, the other two walked a well-known path back to the kitchen.

"I hope you ladies are hungry," said a pleasant baritone voice. "I swear, there might actually be leftovers this time."

"Yeah right!" said Karen.

"Hey, hey, hey," he complained as I made my way towards the kitchen. "Don't wolf it all down at once, Quinn. How else are you going to maintain your girlish figure?"

It seemed flirtation, but there was nothing in his tone by friendly admonishment and affection. He turned and looked at me.

Mason, I was beginning to suspect, was not a tall man. He was very noticeably shorter than me, making him easily below average. He did, however, have the longest hair of anyone in the room, tied back with a leather thong at the level of his shoulders. He wore simple clothing, with a few tribal articles and jewelry. He seemed perfectly normal to me until he turned to look at me. The left side of his face was misshapen and scarred, marred from his eye down his face. I was pretty sure that he couldn't see out of that eye anymore. His left arm appeared to end at about the middle of the forearm, an old prosthetic hand in place. I had only a moment to take all this in before his eye met mine. And then, he was smiling. Or I thought it was smiling. It was hard to tell with half his mouth malformed by scare tissue.

"Ah," he said. "You must be Ben."

I nodded, "And you must be Mason."

He nodded, "Our reputations precede us."

I smiled in return, at last, "I deny everything."

He grinned.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I shook my head, "I mean, yes, starving, but what about Josie and Paula!"

"Oh gosh," said Mason. "What did she do this time?"

"Saw Ben," said Karen, around a mouth full of pancake. At least I think it was a pancake, though it might have been something else, something larger.

"I guess that'd do it," said Mason, slapping at an apron he had on. "Well, Sammie has been running the lines since your hunt yesterday, so she will have put them to rights. I wouldn't worry too much. I bet they'll be walking in any-"

There was another call, same as before, and then they were there. Sam walked in first, looking almost worried, but as soon as she saw Mason, it was as though worry was not an expression she could form. Joy infused her face. There was no other word for it other than synonyms. She was joyous, looking upon him. His expression was no different. It was raw, potent, concentrated love. It hurt to see it. It hurt worse than anything I had felt in over a year.

I looked past them, incapable of seeing more, to Paula and Josie, laughing as they walked it.

"I almost had you," claimed Paula.

"Maybe," said Josie, confident and grinning. "But you didn't."

"Pride goeth," said Karen.

"Go with what?" asked Paula. Josie saw me and I saw her. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to smile and hug her and check to make sure she was alright, but I wasn't sure how that might go over.

She answered by running to me and lifting me, swinging me around.

"Josie," I complained, embarrassed.

"You're here!" she cried, but then stopped and put me down.

She looked serious, "You're here."

I nodded, "Yeah, and I know."

She took a step back, looking grave. She turned, looking to Sam.

"Go," said Sam. "The porch is yours."

She nodded and I didn't like that. I didn't like that at all.

"Josie is her own person," I said firmly.

There was a beat of total silence, then, as one, they all laughed. Mason and Sam at least tried to cover their laughed politely, and Josie's was somewhat affectionate at least. She took my arm and drew me away, bright red.

It wasn't until we were outside that I stiffened. She looked at me, seeing my downcast eyes. She let go of me, her eyes sad.

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping away. I moved with her, reaching down.

"Josie," I said gently, taking her arm in turn, turning it so that the jagged scar on the edge of her arm was easier to see. It wasn't hugely noticeable, but upon closer examination, from the length and look of it, it must have been painful. When did she even get this?

"Oh," she said, playing it off. "It's nothing. Really. I was being stupid, distracted. I paid for it. Totally my own fault."

I shook my head, as to clear it.

"Okay," I said, starting to pace. "I have two questions, then I'm going to need you to start from the beginning and tell me everything."

She sighed, "I can't do that."

"No," I said. "If I'm going to be here, I need to give informed consent. That requires information. All of it."

"No," she said. "I literally can't."

I came up short, "Huh?"

She took a deep breath, "Sam's the Alpha."

"She's what?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"She's the Alpha," she repeated, "of the Pack. The leader. What she says, goes. Without exceptions."

Suddenly, her inability to speak last night, Mason saying that Sam would put them to right, all had a much darker undertone.

"I hate this," I said. "I can't believe that she'd-"

"Hey, no," said Josie defensively. "You've got the wrong idea."

"Oh?" I asked harshly. "Enlighten me."

She didn't rise to my bait.

"Doing what we do isn't easy," she said. "And it doesn't help that we aren't perfect. We make decisions that are biased, emotional. She helps us. If we're too weak or scared or... doubting, she tells us what to do and we do it. We have to function as one. Our people are depending on us. Just, trust me on this. Sam doesn't like it any better than we do, but it's necessary. And Sam is worth following."

I wasn't convinced, but I was willing to let it go.

"So," she said, "what are your questions?"

I nodded, "Okay. So, understand that I am giving you the benefit if the doubt here, but I have to ask; are you killing the hikers?"

She whipped her head to me, shocked, "What?"

"Mom told me," I said. "The hikers started disappearing around the same time they started getting signs and sightings of the wolves."

She shook her head, looking baffled.

"How could you even think that, Ben?" she said, sounding almost hurt. "We're not monsters."

"Being giant wolves not withstand," I quipped.

"There's only one monster here," she said, hate creeping into her voice. "Only the leeches kill, not us."

It took me a moment to understand what she meant. A moment more to put it together.

The vampires were killing them. They were trying to stop them.

"Well," I said, "I guess you shouldn't be too hard on yourself."

"What?" she asked confused. "Why?"

"Because," I said, suddenly unsure, "you aren't stopping them?"

"We are stopping them," she said. "They got that strong one before I joined. And we took down that one that was going to kill you. There is another one out there, but he hasn't killed anywhere near here. He just keeps testing, probing. We don't know what's going on now."

I stared, "You... killed..."

She looked me, "Yeah. Of course. We are still holding to the treaty and not killing anyone who might be a guest of those filthy bloodsuckers. But if they kill near our lands, not even those dirty leeches can protect them from us."

I felt really uncomfortable. I didn't know what to say. I had never seen Josie like this. She had always been so happy, before, so understanding. This was, unexpected, disheartening.

"What?" she asked, looking at me, confused. "What's wrong?"

"You're different," I said, flatter than I meant to.

"Yeah," she said, "that's what happens when someone changes."

"I don't like it," I said.

"Yeah, well," she said, "who says you're supposed to. It's not your life."

"You're my friend," I said. "My best friend! And I don't like what I'm hearing from you. You were someone who was thoughtful and compassionate! You were willing to look past the negative qualities of people to see the good inside them! Why has that changed?!"

She laughed scornfully, "Are you listening to yourself? They're VAMPIRES! Do you get that? Do you understand what that means?"

"Do you?" I asked. "Other than the, oh let's see, one murdering, evil vampire that you've killed, have you ever met one? Talked with one? Really known one?"

She shook her head, "Why would I want to do that?"

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her face, roughly. Unfortunately for my point, she didn't move an inch. I was surprised, but when I pulled again, she graciously let me turn her.

My face in hers, my gaze hard on hers, I said, "You are being an idiot. I know you, and you are better than this. Do you understand me? I don't understand how yet, but I get that this... transition has been hard for you. For now, I only know one thing; you wanted me here. Well, I'm here, and I'm telling you that you're being stupid and petty and narrow-minded. I expect better from you. You're Josie. I know you can be who you really are."

Tears filled her eyes. She looked scared and horrified and angry all at once. Like last night, she pulled me to her. My ribs creaking was different.

"Can't... breathe..." I gasped.

"Oh," she said, laughing shakily, loosening but not letting me go. "God, I missed you. You have no idea."

"I might," I said, hugging her back.

"Have you been losing weight?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I'm actually heavier than when we first started hanging out."

"Huh," she said.

"You're taller too," I said, standing straight in from of her.

Her eyes went wide, "How did I miss that?"

I smiled, "A lot has been going on."

"Oh," she said. "What was your second question?"

"Hmm?" I asked. "Um... Jeez, I can't remember it now. Oh. Right."

I took a deep breath, "I saw Mason. Yeah, obviously. I just wanted to know, um, like, how dangerous is it? To be here, I mean? With you?"

She looked sad, regretful.

"Being here isn't safe," she said. "I mean, it isn't like we flip out and tear heads off every other day or anything, but if we lose control, even for a moment... well, you saw Mason."

I frowned in sympathy, "Sam did that?"

She nodded, "Yeah, she did. It's kind of an involved story. It involves a love triangle and more werewolf folklore that turned out to be real. Ugh! I can't believe I'm having this conversation right now. It's still so weird."

"At least you have someone to talk about it with," I said. "When I was first introduced into this world, I really didn't have anyone to talk to about it."

"I did tell you, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yeah," I admitted after a brief pause. "You did. And that's all I'm saying about... them. For now. I mean, I'm back in it. I can't really avoid talking about it anymore. But I'm not ready yet. Just... not yet."

"I get it," she said, her face hard but her eyes compassionate. "I am not always going to be the most understand person in the world, but I'll listen. I'm still your friend."

I huffed, "Who displaced me? Was it Quinn? I probably can't take her, huh?"

She smiled, "My best friend."

"Oh," I said smiling too. "Good. So, tell me about becoming..."

I paused for dramatic emphasis, "...a werewolf."

Josie leaned against the front railing, looking tense, a bit worried, but not unwilling to talk.

"From the beginning?" she asked. "How about I just tell you the last week?"

I furrowed my brows, "Did stuff happen before that?"

She looked down at herself, "Sort of. You remember how I used to be so scrawny. I have a feeling that me... filling out might have been when it started. I've always been tall, but I am still growing? I mean, it hard to say exactly when all this stuff started.

I nod, "Okay, that's fair."

"Also," she started, then balked, "never mind."

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "It's girl stuff."

I shrugged, "And?"

She looked embarrassed, "Um... maybe later?"

"Sure, sure," I said, and she smiled.

"Okay," she said, standing, "so, last Friday didn't go as I planned at all. I was doing my best to want to wait, all of that, but, if I am being honest... yeah, I would have gone along with just about anything you wanted to do that night."

I grimaced, half joking, "Now she tells me..."

She grinned back, fiendishly.

"Anyway," she said, "I was all dressed up in my nicest and sluttiest outfit, headed to your place in the Rabbit that I had just finally gotten running well the day before. I was thinking about you, and I started to feel hot, which, let's face it, wasn't exactly out of the norm. But this time, it was different. I felt it build in me, and it sort of overflowed. At the time I had no idea what was going on. I lost myself completely, lost control of the car, went flying, and landed on all fours. I had phased into a wolf."

She got this look on her face, sort of exhilarated and jittery.

"I didn't understand what had happened," she said. "I didn't even get that anything was different. It just seemed as natural as anything to be on all fours and have fur and all. I just tried to push my car over on its wheels, not realizing that I was doing it with my nose. It was then that I understood I was hearing voices too."

"Voices," I asked.

She nodded, "It isn't just about turning yourself into a wolf. You're part of something bigger than yourself; the pack. You are one. You can see what the rest see, hear what rest hears, smell what the rest smell, feel what the rest feels, and know what the others know."

"Like, what?" I said. "You can read each others' minds?"

"Yeah," she said, sort of sheepishly. "That's not too weird, is it? Too freaky?"

"No," I said calmly, and she relaxed. "I'll... tell you about it... later."

"Huh?" she asked.

"Later," I said. "You were hearing voices?"

"Yeah," she said. "Quinn and Karen were running the lines around our land, keeping our people safe, when my mind touched theirs. They understood that I was too wolf, and they were trying to get my attention while Karen went to get Sam. I was starting to get more and more irritated by all the talking, and by the time Sam phased, I was running Quinn down, and doing a pretty good job of it."

"In your dreams," boomed from inside the house.

I turned, "Oh, right."

She was confused, or more like she was confused that I wasn't.

"Not my first rodeo," I said.

"Oh, right," she said. "I forget, you've been around this kind of thing a lot longer."

"Don't feel bad," I said. "I've... been told... that I'm pretty observant."

"Hmm," she sighed. "Okay, so Sam calmed me down, but the best she could do was direct orders. Karen got my mom, but that was no help. All she could do was watch. I was still and wasn't interested in listening to anything these voice in my head had to say. I saw as Quinn went back to the wreck and saw everything. She saw you pull up, and you freaking out over me really snapped me out of it, but made me pissed too because there was nothing I could do! Quinn followed you, and as soon as they realized you were coming here, Sam stopped you. For good reason. I was so mad I likely could have killed you, killed anyone. It took them like an hour to calm down enough to change, and I was only able to stay on the phone for our conversation before I phased back. I was a wolf again until I calmed down, sometime early Monday morning. Sleeping in the woods is not that bad, actually. Somewhere in there, Sam explained."

She paused, and I was so caught up in her story, it took me a minute to realize she had stopped.

"Explained what?" I asked.

"That I was dangerous," she said. "That I shouldn't be around you until it was safe. That I had to keep the secret, no matter what. That all the stories were real. Truth be told, I spent so much of this week trying to hate you."

"Me?" I asked. "Why?"

"You were in bed with the enemy!" she exclaimed. "Okay, maybe not literally, but still!"

I almost admitted that she literally had been, a lot, but something told me this was the wrong time.

"Ben," she sighed. "Look, I didn't want you here, but not because I hated you. I didn't want you here because I was scared. I was trying so hard to keep it together, ya know? I would have totally lost it if you freaked out on me."

I nodded, "I guess I didn't help things by coming here yesterday and making demands."

"You were completely right, though," she said sullenly. "I totally abandoned you. I let you down. I'm really, really sorry about that. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, I'll do it."

I raised an eyebrow.

She shoved me. I'm sure she meant it playfully. After I bounced off the wall and the porch and cracked the nearby railing. I managed to get up, probably bruised somewhere, brushing the dust and what was left of my pride off my pants.

"I'm so sorry!" she gushed. "I'm just going to sit over here and never touch you again. Like ever."

I moved to her and put my arms around her. She leaned into me, our heads together.

"What fun would that be?" I asked, hopefully, low enough that no one overheard us.

"You are too much, Benny," she said, stroking my face.

"So," I said, "what changed your mind?"

"Huh?" she asked.

"I stormed off," I said, "and you were understandably pissed. But what happened between then and sneaking into my bedroom that made you-"

"You snuck into his bedroom!?" boomed Quinn.

She sighed, heavily, "You have no idea at what lengths I went to in order to keep that bit private."

"Huh?" I asked.

"When we're in wolf form," she said. "Mind to mind. If I think it, they know it. I still have to think it, so if I want to keep anything private, it's like nothing thinking about pink elephants."

"I see what she was saying," then frowned, "Oh. Oops."

She laughed quietly, "I don't care anymore. Anyway, to answer your question, it was when we were hunting that leech up at their crypt."

"Crypt?" I asked.

"That thing they call a house," she said dismissively. "You know; that female, last night."

"Right," I said. "What about it?"

"You were afraid of her," she said. "You weren't afraid of us. It was like, you could see, you could tell. You knew that there was nothing to be scared of. I knew then that you just might, might be able to accept me, as this. It was enough of a chance that I had to take it. So, I did."

I nodded, "Um..."

"What?" she asked.

"Could I..." I started, wondering if she might be offended, "...you know... see it?"

Slowly, this sultry expression crossed her face, her lips curving in this wicked little smile. I was having trouble breathing right.

"I could," she said, "if you wanted. Trouble is, my clothes don't shift with me."

It took me a minute to get what she meant, and considerably less time for me to go beat red. She howled with laughter.

"Too easy!" she guffawed.

"You're just a tease," I grumbled.

"Oh please," she smiled, "you wouldn't let me if you didn't enjoy it."

"But really," I replied. "Like, is it hard to phase, or whatever?"

She considered, "It all depends on how angry you are. It's like, you can always phase, but how angry you are is like a bottleneck. Or a reverse bottleneck. I don't know. Whatever! The point is, it takes more work to do it if you aren't mad, so you have to be more committed. You need to get yourself mad, and that takes like awareness and self-control. Right now, it's way harder to not phase when I'm angry than to phase when I'm not. And I'm angry a whole lot more than I used to be. Having you here actually helps a lot. You keep me even, happier, and that's rare. Only Sam has ever had that with Mason, and that's a special circumstance."

"Special?" I asked.

She immediately looked very uncomfortable, so much so that I would have withdrawn the question, had she not refused herself.

"I'll tell you about it later," she said. "Like I said before; long story, love triangle, all that."

"Right," I said, nodding.

"Anyway," she said. "I've been doing pretty well with the wolf thing. My pack has my back and it works well for me. When I'm in control, I'm actually really good at this. I keep my head in a fight, usually, and I phase easily. I'm comfortable as a wolf, and there are definitely perks."

"How so?" I asked.

She grinned, an exhilarated and joyous smile, "Nothing beats running."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, the speed is unbelievable," she said.

"How fast are we talking?" I asked.

She laughed, "Think cop cars."

"Huh?" I asked confused.

"We aren't great at acceleration," she said, "but we are awesome once we hit top speeds. And we can keep going for a really long time. I mean, we run down vampires. Just think about that."

Unbelievable was right; I couldn't imagine it. It was like thinking of the size of galaxies or the universe. It made sense, but I couldn't grasp it.

I started thinking about it, and more and more it started to bug me. I kept bumping into things I couldn't grasp. Everywhere I turned, there were supernatural creatures. And what did it say about me, that I kept being attracted to these mythical creatures? What was up with that?

I looked over Josie's casual, almost predatory grace and her trim, athletic physique. Oh, right.

She grinned as she noticed my ogling.

"You know," she said, "we might want to talk about that too."

"Talk about what?" I asked.

She leaned in a rather provocative way against the rail, her shirt riding up to flash smooth abs and a curving hip. It was like my eyes jerked themselves around to her.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

She grinned, "My hormones are all out of whack right now."

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Bouncing back and forth," she said. "At times, the idea of sex has all the appeal of eating a tube of rubber cement."

"And at others?" I asked.

She grinned, almost fiendishly, "I get turned by looking at linoleum."

I felt myself shiver with those dark brown eyes on me.

"That might not be the best information for me to have," I said. "It's likely something I would be inclined to take advantage of."

She sighed, "I know, which is why I'm telling you this now. If I have to, I'll ask Sam to put an edict on me. I don't want my hormones to wreck our first time. That would suck. I already have this wolf thing dominating every part of my life. I don't want it to take that away from me too, and you with it."

"Me?" I asked. "Me how?"

She looked peripherally at me, "Ben, if you were to press that advantage, do you think there's any chance in hell that I'd be able to trust you again?"

I sighed back, "No. Nor should you. I'm sorry. It's weird; it's like, I spent so much time not caring about anything that it got to the point where I felt like I had to fake it or else humans, other people I mean, would see me as something else, as not human."

"You really felt like that?" she asked, sounding sad.

"Yeah," I said. "When... when she left, I lost... everything I wanted. Can you imagine? I was so sure that she was going to be there every day, forever. It's still staggering how arrogant I was! I took her for granted, and then she was gone. I didn't appreciate her at all and then... what? Josie?"

Angry tears were streaming down her face. She looked fearsome, and that is when I noticed something was wrong.

The edges of her frame weren't there. It was as though she was humming like a tuning fork, like her edges were blurred. It was starting to get worse, the air around her shimmering. Before I could do anything, Sam rushed out of the house behind me.

"Calm down," she ordered.

I took a step back. Her eyes locked on me.

"No!" cried Sam.

Something grabbed the back of my shirt, and the next thing I knew, I was flying through the air. There was the sound of snarling and shredding cloth and splintering wood, and then there were two huge wolves rolling below me as I sailed the length of the yard. I landed and rolled, and luckily the earth was soft and sandy and there weren't any rocks. I probably had more bruises, though. They fought between me and the house, and it actually took some time before they finally backed down.

I sat there, scuffed but okay. Suddenly, the red-brown wolf let out a low whine, looking over at me. She took a couple steps, then stopped, looking back at the black, as though for permission. The black gave short, warning growl but was silent as... as Josie walked toward me.

She kept her head low, her mussel lower, her ears down and her eyes wide on me, a decidedly worried slant to her face. There was an almost dejected slump to her shoulders and as she approached me, she was careful to make no sudden movements. It wasn't until she got close to me, close enough that she started edging my personal space that I realized just how impressive her size was. I started to feel scared, instinctively for a moment, just at how huge she was, emphasized by my nearly prone position on the ground.

She stopped, looking almost sad, and then with slow, almost hesitant motions, she licked the back of my hand. I jumped as a slight and sudden pain washed through me, and I looked down to she a shallow cut on the back of my left hand, one that I hadn't notice until now.

It wasn't deep or severe. I doubted it could use a single stitch. But it was long and irregular and would likely scar. She licked it again, thoroughly cleaning it, looking apologetic. That's when I realized that she had done it. That it how close she came to seriously hurting me. If Sam hadn't been here, I would have been dead. It was closer than... Edwina had ever come to killing me.

I stood, lightheaded, stumbling a little. She didn't move except to kept her head even with mine.

"I'm sorry," I said. She blinked, her head coming higher, obvious shock in her.

"I wasn't thinking," I went on. "I shouldn't have been talking about... them. It was my fault. I should have known better-"

She straightened to her full height and brought her huge head down on mine, her jaw thumping me solidly, enough that it smarted considerably. She pulled back and gave me a stern look, tinged with self-reproach.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It looked so strange on her wolfy face.

"Fine," I said sarcastically. "It's your fault. All of it. How could you have been foolish? How dare you not be perfect?!"

She looked, shocked again, and then, I swear, her face split into a doggie grin.

She gave a chuffing little bark, an obvious laugh. She poked me in the chest with her nose.

"Hey," I said, stumbling and laughing. Pushed at her shoulder with my uninjured hand, which, naturally, meant that I was sent stumbling once more while she was completely unmoved. She walked beside me, her tail wagging happily, bouncing on her front feet, tongue lolling as we turned and headed back towards the house. We were about halfway when she stopped, stood still, looking shocked, and then the air around her began to shimmer. Suddenly, Josie was rolling to the ground, herself again, scrabbling to cover herself.

I was at a loss, and after a second of seriously considering sneaking a peak, I kept my eyes on her face, immediately pulling off my extra button up shirt. Before I could get close to her, there was suddenly a mass of black fur between us, and it took me a moment to realize Sam was helping to protect her modesty.

I heard Josie murmur something that wasn't English, sounding mortified.

"Here," I said somberly, pitching my shirt over Sam's bulk. She looked over at me, an oddly calculating expression on her face.

"Not exactly the way I wanted you to see me naked the first time," Josie muttered.

"I didn't," I said simply. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but, I didn't want it to be that way either."

There was a pause, and she straightened, looking over Sam's back at me.

"Why?" she asked. "I mean, I am glad you did, but why did you do it?"

I thought about it, "I don't know. I guess... I guess because I wanted to. I am starting to remember what it's like. To be a person, I mean. There are things that I want. I've been telling myself for so long that I can never have what I want because it will never happen, I have been settling for whatever feels good or easy or makes things easier to bear. But, that's no way to live. I don't want to be the guy who sees a naked girl and checks her out because it's the thing to do. I want to be the guy who makes the choice to check her out or not, depending on the situation. And, in this case, I don't want to. You are worth more than that to me."

She frowned, "You need to cut that out."

"What?" I said, abashed.

She frowned harder, "Making me want to kiss you."

Sam huffed and started walking. Josie followed suit, with the nearly frantic manner of someone about to lose their towel. I would know.

When they neared the house, Quinn stepped out, throwing Josie a loose pair of jeans. The second set of second-hand clothes she held out for Sam, who seamlessly shifted back, completely unabashed at her own nudity, and I averted my gaze, equally embarrassed and disconcerted. Josie was there, carefully taking the arm of my injured hand gingerly guiding me to the house.

"Come on," she fussed. "They have first aid inside."

We sat down at the table while the other girls gabbed and ate. Sam kept them more or less civil while they jockeyed and sparred verbally, while Josie applied antiseptic and butterfly band-aids and a wrap and Quinn cued over the "beauty".

I got some food and a sympathetic look from Mason that I felt was wholly undeserved. I laughed and joined in the conversation as I could, more social and companionable than I had been with anyone other than Josie since last year. After the meal and conversation was over and it was starting to become dark, Sam straightened, and the table fell quiet.

"Benjamin," she said, and I sat straighter too.

"You are a friend of the people," she said, "so I believe that we can trust you to keep our secrets, yes?"

I nodded, "Of course."

She nodded in return. "So saying, might I ask you for a favor?"

My brow furrowed, "What sort of favor?"

Her face was hard, "Do you know anything about the vampire trying to breach our borders?"

I considered. What trusts was I infringing upon by speaking out now? Who was I left beholden to? Was there even anyone left to betray?

"How can I help?" I asked.

"The vampire we killed last night spoke to you," she said, "mentioning someone named Victor?"

"Yes," I said. I took a deep breath. This was not a story I wanted to recount. But, I realized, if it was true that Victor was going to keep trying, I had no choice. It might save lives if they knew. It might save mine.

"Last year," I said, my throat thick, my voice trembling, "while I was visiting with the... Cullens, we were met by three outside vampires, nomads, I think they called them."

"Visiting where?" asked Sam.

"I don't know," I said. "Some field near the mountains where they played baseball."

Every single mouth at the table fell open. Some still had food in it. I might have laughed, had I not had a frog in my throat and steroidal butterflies in my belly.

"They played... baseball?" asked Josie, as though this was as ridiculous as saying something like werewolves dancing ballet.

"Yeah," I said, starting to feel a little indignant. "Anyway, there were three nomads; Laurent was the one you killed yesterday. The other two were a pair, but I guess I didn't really know that at the time. Jamie and Victor. When Jamie realized that I was human and that the Cullens were protecting me, she... sort of decided to hunt me, for sport."

All the women at the table seemed to narrow in on me, as though something I said was triggering a sort of unconscious hunting instinct of their own.

"That is why you left?" asked Josie. "Your mom called mine... telling us that you had taken off to Phoenix. You were running?"

"Yeah," I said. "We laid a false trail that was actually true, and two of the Cullens and I ran while the rest tried to entrap the pair here. But Jamie outmaneuvered us. She set a trap for me, and I walked right into it. I was nearly killed, poisoned and badly injured. The Cullens got there in time and saved me."

They gave me strained looks, as though the idea of vampires saving anyone was hard to believe or was somehow duplicitous.

"How did they stop the poison?" asked Sam.

I was actually surprised they knew about it. But, then again, this wasn't as new to their people as it was to me or these women specifically.

I swallowed, a bit ironically, "She... it was sucked out, drawn it out of me."

More than one of the women shuttered where they sat, vibrating the table. Only Sam and Josie seemed in control. Sam have a barking order in their language, and they calmed down.

"What happened to this Jamie?" she asked.

"I didn't see it for myself," I confessed, "but I believe they killed her. Everything points to that, including Victor. He seeks to punish... the Cullens by... killing me."

A buzz seemed to flow around the table, sounding almost like growling.

"That makes sense," said Sam. "We first stopped him on the outskirts of town, and he alluded us. Later, another vampire came through, stronger than the one I faced before and destroyed last spring. And now, this Laurent. It's a feint. He is using tactics against us, testing our defenses. Now, we know what his true target is, we can start accounting for it."

"I'll keep an eye on his house at night," said Josie. "This Victor won't get anywhere near the town while I'm out there."

"You'll do no such thing," said Sam. "We don't want the redhead to know that we know the target. We will protect the people of Forks, as we would if we found a vampire there. It falls to us to protect all of them."

"Okay," said Jose, dejectedly.

I bumped her shoulder with mine, "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

She shook her head, "I know that. I just... I want to get this guy. He's killed in this area before. He threatens our lands! I want to take him down."

A murmur of agreement echoed around the group.

"We'll get him," said Sam. "We just need to do it right."

Not long after that, the group starts to break up, going their separate ways. I walked with Josie, and soon we are wondering down the beach, the dark night moonless, a new moon.

"Hey," she said suddenly in the night, "can I ask you something without sounding clingy?"

"I don't know," I said teasingly. "Can you?"

"Oh shut up," she said around a light chuckle. "I'm serious."

"What?" I asked, still smiling.

"Look," she said, "I said that sex was off the table, and you agreed. But we didn't really discuss whether dating is off the table. So, I guess I'm asking, what do you want?"

I suddenly felt like a deer in the headlights and I didn't know why.

"No," she said, sounding defensive and amused at the same time. "I don't mean it like, 'Hey do you want to be my boyfriend or what?'. I mean, where would you like to see your life go, and what part would you like me to play in it?"

I considered that. I realized I had thought about it, though not really all that hard.

"I guess," I said. "I don't know, specifically. I want you around, though, a lot and all the time. But, the thing of it is, the first girl I fell for..."

I heard her inhale sharply, and slowly let her breath out. I waited.

"She left," I went on when she was quiet again. "I took her for granted and-"

She hugged me to her, hard, squeezing me tight.

"I'm not going to leave you," she said. "Ever again."

"Ribs..." I wheezed, "breaking..."

She relaxed an inch or two. I gasped for breath.

"Calm down," I finally said. "That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Huh?" she replied. "What do you mean?"

"She was the first girl I had interested in that was interested in me too," I said. "I don't know if it would have worked. I don't know if she was even what I really wanted. One way or the other, I never got the chance to find out. But I want that chance. I don't know if you and I would be a good fit as a couple. I'd like to find out."

I realized that she hadn't let me go. Her breath was tickling the side of my neck, and I realized just how warm and real she felt up against me.

"You feel..." she said softly.

I took a step back, and she let me go, mostly.

"Yeah, I need to go," I said, wanting nothing more than to step right back where I had been.

"Oh," she whined, "you don't have to go anywhere."

She reached for me.

"Yep," I said, nodding vigorously. "I really, really do."

"Aw," she pouted, her voice rich and inviting, "no. I know what I said before, but it's okay. I changed my mind."

"Nope," I said. "I know what this is! This is your hormones talking, and I..."

She grabbed me. Her lips found one of my earlobes.

"I..." I said, trying to remember what I was going to say, or what words were.

"I'm in a nightmare," I said, keeping my hands locked at my sides. "This is a nightmare. I'm in hell."

"I can take you to heaven," she whispered in my ear.

"No," I said. She froze.

"No?" she asked.

"No," I said again. Was I crazy?

She sighed, "Damn..."

"I know," I said.

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Sure enough," I said, my voice nearly breaking.

"Dang!" she exclaimed playfully.

I swallowed, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure, sure," she said. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself."

I felt the expression drain from my face, "I... uh..."

She burst into a fit of giggles.

"I can handle my emotions," she clarified, "Jeez! Get your mind out of the gutter, Benny-Boy!"

We started walking back towards Sam's. Once it was in sight, she took my hand.

"My place is that way," she said, indicating the other way down the beach.

"You don't want a ride?" I asked, sounding disappointed.

"Naw," she said. "This is faster. Besides, I could use the run. Be less pent up."

I snorted, "Yeah. I know how that goes."

She laughed, "I guess you might."

"No!" I protested and she giggled all the harder until I just shut up.

"You're too much," she said, hugging me. This time it felt nice, like closeness, tender and something I deeply didn't want to let go of.

"I want you," I said before I could stop myself. "I want to be close to you, have a life with you, if I can. I will do what I can to figure out of that is a possibility. I want to get to know you, and have you know me, all of it, good and bad, every bit of it, total honesty."

She looked at me, looking happy, scared, and determined, all at once.

"Okay," she said. "I'm game."

I kissed her. It was like the hug, shorter, yet somehow sweeter for it.

"See you," she said, and I smiled, "See you."

I started walking towards the truck.

"Oh, and Ben?"

I turned just in time for something to hit me in the face. It took me a moment to realize it was my other shirt and what the meant. She laughed as I kept the shirt upon my face, waving goodbye in her general direction, and turned back to the house towards my truck before I pulled the shirt down and put it on. As I drove home, the smell of her on me, I realized for the first time in a long time that I had genuine hope for the future.


	10. Chapter 10: Closure

The next several weeks were among the happiest times in my life to that point. I was back to spending most weekends in La Push, and while there were times that I seriously pissed off Josie something fierce, she never phased uncontrollably around me again. We spent time riding the bikes, swimming when it was warm, hanging out at her place or mine, heading to Port Angeles for a movie and a meal, walking on the beach, or just driving. She even gave my truck a tune up at one point.

For the most part, our parents didn't give us a hard time at all. In fact, Mom was practically supportive. I had the sinking suspicion that she thought I might stay in the area if Josie and I happen to become an item, even though I could also tell she wanted me to leave and go to a decent school somewhere.

I was social with the kids at school again. I occasionally ate lunch with the old crowd I sat with the year before, even a time or two with Lauren, who still is holding his grudge but not enough to be open in front of me about it.

All in all, I was doing well.

Conversations with Josie varied widely. She retained a soft spot for mindless action movies and I admitted to being a sucker for a poignant romance, and neither of us got the point of gore-fest movies. She actually confessed to disliking ice cream, to which I teased her to no end.

"It's a staple of the X chromosome!" I laughed. "A girl's having a hard time, she picks up a pint of Cherry Garcia. It's a thing!"

"Jerry who?" she griped. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a flavor-" I said, too astonished and amused for words. "How have you gotten this far in life and not know ice cream flavors?"

"I like sherbet!" she huffed. "You're being all judgmental."

"Next," I said, joking, "I'm going to quote Star Wars and you're going to stare at me blankly."

"Star what?" she asked, her brow knit.

I stared at her, agape, for nearly thirty seconds before she couldn't keep a straight face anymore.

"Oh, you!" I snorted, shoving her arm which moved me more than her.

"I so almost had you!" she smirked.

"In your dreams!" I exclaimed, my voice high.

Other times, we talked about more serious topics.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean, yeah, kids was something I thought about a lot went my dad died. If I did have kids, they were going to have to go through that at some point. It's tough, going through that, considering putting that off on someone else, or thinking about going through it again if they kick it before you, god forbid. And now, with the whole wolf thing, it's a tough question. I might not have a choice."

"Huh?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she said, "how do I put this delicately...? Since I started shifting, I'm not surfing the red wave anymore."

I blinked at her, "Huh?"

"The Redcoats are out of Virginia," she said. "Not more Basement Massacres. Shark Week's been canceled. No visits from Aunt Flow. All my sentences are run-ons."

I shook my head, completely lost, "Run-ons?"

"No periods," she said.

"Oh," I said as it started to click. "Ohhh. Oh god!"

"Yes!" she said, pointing at my face, "That color has no power over me!"

I was pretty sure I was going purple.

"We so don't need to talk about this!" I said, my throat thick.

"I don't mind," she said, still chuckling. "It's a wolf thing. Our bodies sort of stop, see? Look at me for a moment."

I did. Cut off jeans and a bikini top. I approved.

"Do I look sixteen to you?" she asked.

I saw her point, "No. Honestly, I think you could walk into a dive bar and no one would stop you. But I don't think that has anything to do with your age."

"Oh shut up," she said, jokingly sort of curving around herself, as though somehow trying to hide any indecencies her outfit my reveal.

"What?" I deadpanned. "They would be too afraid you'd kick their ass!"

"Well, that's just true," she seriously before laughing.

"See," she went on, "we age rapidly just before the change, hence why my hormones were all out of whack for a while and why it took time for me to get used to like ten years of extra sex drive dropped on me in like a week and a half. Right now, I'm more like twenty-six than sixteen physically. I'm fully matured, and I'm going to stay that way."

"Forever?" I asked, trying to come up with a way to turn her maturity into a joke in my head but failing miserably.

"Well," she said, "no. Just until my people don't need wolf protectors. As soon as the vampires leave for long enough, we will calm down and start aging normally again, and... everything will start back up again and we can make with the baby making."

I snorted, then my look became thoughtful.

"No!" she shook her head. "You did not just think that we could have all the sex we want and I wouldn't get pregnant! You did not just go there!"

"It wasn't on purpose!" I laughed defensively. "It was just sort of there and I noticed."

"What about you, Mister Mind-Gutter?" she asked. "Thought about having kids?"

I considered, "I guess so."

She looked sideways at me, "You guess so?"

"Well," I said, "I don't know. I mean, idly, sure, I have thought about it, but, I mean, the first time I had a serious girlfriend, kids sort of got taken off the table. Other than adoption, I mean."

"Hmm," she murmured flatly, just the barest hint of an edge to her voice. But, then, she smirked, "What do you mean, idly?"

"I just," I said, trailing off, "sort of... named..."

"What?!" she said. "Oh, you have to tell me!"

"No," I said, really defensively.

"Oh please," she said, almost pitifully. "Please tell me!"

"I..." I started. "No. You're making fun of me. No!"

"I'm not, I'm not!" she said, almost hopping. "I swear I'm not! Tell me... please."

"Well..." I said, "if I was going to have a girl, I was thinking, at the time, I was thinking Ina Elizabeth."

"Huh," she said thoughtfully. "That's kinda pretty. What about a boy?"

"Emond," I said, lost in thought.

"Emond?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "It was just something I was playing around with."

Finally, Spring break had rolled around, starting on March thirteenth. It was decided that I would be spending all of break in La Push. So, I drove up Monday and knocked on the Black's front door promptly at ten, as was our arrangement. Belinda opened the door.

"Hey, Ben," she said, expansively, if sleepily.

"She isn't up yet, is she?" I asked with a grin.

"Why don't you go kick her out of bed?" she grinned in kind.

I had never seen her room. I don't know what I was expecting. I opened the door, finding a smallish room, mostly filled by a largish futon style bed. Okay, it might have been regular-sized, looking larger because of the small confines. Or because Josie was laid upon it.

I didn't know what I was expecting. She was sleeping, but somehow, I didn't expect her to seem so... vulnerable. She was on her back, but her hips were twisted easily to one side, her legs drawn in, fetal. Her arms, on the other hand, were strewn about her head, as if they were limbs blown in the wind. Her face was relaxed, her mussed hair more disheveled than usual. She wore a familiar, thin, nearly sleeveless black shirt, it took me a few moments to realize was mine. I tried to think of how it got here. It was form-fitting on me. On her, it was more or less skin tight, leaving no need for imagination. There was a small span of tanned skin between the shirt and the small pair of purple underwear she had on.

I felt immediately unsure, feeling as though I was peeping or taking advantage. Then I realized that she had come into my room and had seen me in a much more compromising situation. It was only fair, right? Besides, there was no way I was going to go back into the living room and try to explain to Belinda why I chickened out.

I came fully into the room, trying to find a place to stand that wasn't on discarded clothing. Then, I tried to find a method of waking her without startling her or anything. Carefully, I knelt near her head. I slowly reached out, my curled fingers brushing against her face, gently.

"Jocelyn," I said quietly.

She murmured in her sleep, rolling towards me.

"Come here," she said sleepily, twisting her fingers into my sleeve and pulling. "Come 'ere."

I slipped my shoes off, leaning down, though there wasn't much room for me. She tugged me as I was settling so that I ended on my side with my back to her front. She murmured happily again, wrapping her arms around me. I matched my arms to hers, and there, warm and comfortable, I actually went back to sleep.

I awoke sometime later, one of her arms around me from behind, underneath, the other on my hip. I turned around to face her.

"Hey," I whispered, touching her face again. In her sleep, she slipped her top leg around my hips, and I was suddenly very aware of how close we were.

"Mmm," she said, her hands finding my face, her lips finding mine.

"I-" was all I was able to get out. I mumbled quiet protests, but they quickly quieted. I kissed her back, passion rising up surprising fast within me. It was her turn to mumble against my lips, but her sleepy sounds were undeniably pleasurable.

Finally, the kiss broke, and she stirred.

"-was having the craziest dream," she said rubbing her eyes, her hand falling to land on my chest. She froze. Her eyes slowly opened.

"Morning," I said, completely unable to hold back my smile.

Her eyes went wide as she took it all in, her leg around me, the press of our bodies, her hands on me, my arms around her, the fact that we were in her room, in her bed.

"I'm awake, right?" she said. "This is not some crazy, realistic dream? If I jump you, mom will come in here, yes?"

"Well," I said, my voice unsure, "I might stop you too."

"Crap," she said, resettling herself. "My dream Bens are usually more accommodating..."

"Bens?" I asked. "As in plural?"

A wicked smile crossed her sleepy face, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

After a beat of silence, I said, "I feel I have to be gentlemanly and point out you aren't exactly fully dressed."

"I'm more dressed than you were when I saw you in your room," she said.

"That's true," I said. "Okay, shall I fetch you a towel?"

She burst out laughing, loudly, trying to cover her face.

"What?" I said in mock defensiveness. "It's only fair!"

"Sure, sure," she said, rolling back in what little space there was, stretching. I was quite enraptured by how the stretch arched her back, very obviously showing off her body, even more so against the taught fabric. I found myself turning away, focusing on slowing down my breathing, relaxing, something I had a lot of practice with over the weeks we had spent together. It wasn't always easy to calm down after looking at her, and it didn't help that it was a toss up whether she would respond with an amused chuckle or an inviting sound of pleasure.

She laughed this time, but it was still an inviting sound.

"Such the gentleman today," she said, "I'm tempted to tease you until you can't stand it and wanna jump me."

"You... are... not... a nice... person..." I said through clenched teeth.

She glided easily to her feet, walking around me to her modest closet. I watched as her muscles pulled and shifted below her smooth skin of her legs and... back! Her back! She stood, her back still to me, as she pulled on a pair of old shorts.

"You know," she said, slipping the shirt off while picking up a bra from somewhere. I turned away from her, feeling a look of frustration slide over my face.

"You could just ask me out," she said, "then we would have to beat around the bush so much."

I shrugged, "Not yet."

"Oh," she said, raising an eyebrow at me as slung her arms through the already clasped bra. I realized I had turned around and turned back to the wall.

"Why?" she asked, trying to stifle her amusement.

"Two reasons," I said. "One, I'm not going to ask you out just so we can sleep together, which is what you implied right there."

"But," she complained, her joking not entirely faked, "I want you!"

I couldn't help but laugh, "And two, we haven't talked about... her."

Her face fell, darkening.

"You're right," she said. "We haven't."

"You said talk about everything," I pointed out, "even the unpleasant stuff."

"And you're ready to talk about it?" she asked, slinging a shirt on.

"I am," I said, realizing that it was true. "Are you ready to listen?"

She sighed, "I don't know. I mean, I think so. I am not sure how to take all of that. What I mean is, it's hard for me to accept that you were the kind of person who would... who was interested in..."

She shuttered.

I set my jaw.

"Get used to it," I said stubbornly. "Because I am, and I was. It was an important part of my life and is crucial to who I am. If you're not willing to accept all of me, this is never going to work."

"Are you prepared to accept that I hate then?" she asked bluntly.

"Yep," I said. "You're wrong, but that's okay. I don't hold it against you. You don't need to change either. I don't need you to agree with me on everything in order for us to date."

"Okay!" she finally exclaimed.

"Really?" I asked, hopeful through my skepticism.

"Sure, sure," she said. "Now, let go walk down to the beach before I lose my nerve."

We walked out of her room, and I said, "You aren't hungry?"

"No," she said.

"Bagel," her mother called.

"Urgh! Fine!" she complained, walking into the kitchen.

"My," said Belinda, wheeling in behind us, "didn't you two look cozy this morning."

We both frozen, turning.

"How did you..." I said, trailing off.

"I can see through walls," she said. "Side effect of losing the use of my legs."

"That's not a thing, mom," said Josie, wolfing down the bagel before grabbing a second and shoving it in the toaster and starting on a third.

"Sure it is," said Belinda. "It's just like when blind people get better hearing and all."

I just stood there, smirking.

"You're not as funny as you think," said Josie, her mouth full.

"Sure I am!" Belinda said loudly. "Ben thinks I'm very funny. Don't you, Ben?"

"I'm going to have to agree with Josie," I said.

"Why?" asked Belinda. "You're not even porking her yet."

"Oh my god, mom!" she said, suddenly bursting into slue non-English of words. Belinda responded in kind, but she seemed more amused than Josie. I take the opportunity to retrieve my shoes. Finally, after Josie handed me the toasted bagel, we walked out, with Lin following us to the door.

"Be careful on the beach!" she cried. "Crabs are attracted to the smell of-"

"Mom!" cried Josie. "Okay! You're funny! Now knock it off."

"Was that so hard?" she asked before turning around and closing the door.

I munched bagel.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"I was trying to avoid that," she confessed.

"I know," I said. "Totally my bad."

"So," she said as we start making our way towards the beach, "why don't you start?"

I swallowed, then ate more bagel.

"Start how?" I asked, mouth still full.

"I don't know," she said. "Just tell me, like, the worst of it. What do you think is the hardest thing for me to take?"

I think about wanting to be a vampire.

"Maybe let's not start with that," I said, finishing the bagel. "Let's start with something easier."

She grimaced, "That bad?"

"Pretty much," I said, "but we'll get there."

I took a deep breath, and I laid it all out for her. Meeting Edwina, our parting, our brief reunion, the accident, our separation, her deciding to pursue me, me discovering what she was.

"See," said Josie as we walked the beach, "here is what I don't understand. You find out that this girl, hot though she might be, from your perspective, is a bloodsucking, undead, creature of the night, and your response is that you need to get with that?"

"Tell me something," I said. "Would you still want to be with me if I was a vampire?"

She wrinkled her nose at me, "That's different."

"Why?" I asked.

She sighed, "Because you wouldn't be you anymore!"

I looked at her, "What makes you say that?"

"Reality!" she said. "Vampires want blood, they want it more than anything else in the world, Ben. They would willing give up their own lives and die to get it."

I stopped walking, "What are you talking about?"

She stopped too, sort of jostling on the spot, "There's a story, part of our legends, of our first encounter with vampires. As part of the story, the husband of our Woman Chief sacrificed himself for the tribe. We would have lost, and badly, had he not spilled his own blood to distract the creature."

I look at her, "One vampire, one time, gets distracted by the smell of fresh human blood, and you think that means they are all like that?"

She looked at me, her sure expression slipping a bit.

"At least two of the Cullens never tasted human blood," I said.

"That you know of," she mocked snidely.

I went on, "They didn't ask to become what they were. Some would have chosen death rather than to become what they are. They didn't have a choice. They are simply doing the best they can with a really weird situation."

She looked momentarily staggered. I knew that I had struck a nerve and I could tell she wasn't happy about it.

"No," she said, and I could tell if she was trying to deny me or her thoughts. "They are monsters. They aren't alive. They aren't born. They aren't people."

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Josie," I said evenly, "you're my best friend, and I care about you heaps, but that is just stupid. That's like saying, 'These people are savages. They don't have white skin. They aren't Christians. Therefore, they aren't people'."

She glared at me, "That's not fair."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "It isn't. You are choosing to look down on them for things they cannot control, factors that have nothing to do with their worth. They made a treaty with you, followed it to a tee, but your people didn't."

"Sure," she said, though I could tell she was as amused as she was embarrassed, "throw that in my face, why don't you..."

"They aren't killers any more than you are," I said.

"We never kill!" she exclaimed, but I could tell what the quaver in her voice meant. I just stared at her.

"Animals," she said. "We still hunt as wolves sometimes, if we absolutely have to. That's it."

"They hunt as well," I replied. "They hunt, often going out of state as to not decline the local animal populations. That's it."

She shook her head, "No. I can't. I can't see them as just people."

"They aren't just people," I said, "but they are people."

"No!" Josie said. "I can't just let go and not care that their monsters!"

I looked at her, "Josie, this is it. This is what trust looks like. I am not asking you to see things my way or take my side. I'm not saying you have to do anything. But, if you are unwilling to be wrong about something, how can we ever have a relationship?"

She looked harshly at me, "What are you talking about?"

I hung my head, "I am not perfect. I make mistakes all the time. I do my best to learn those mistakes, to grow, but again, not perfect. But, if I refuse to be open to the idea of being wrong, it's that much harder. I will only ever see that world that way I do now, never changing, never growing, always the same. You need to be wrong in order to be a person. No one is perfect. If you can't accept that you make mistakes and are willing to learn from them and see the world differently, we can't grow a life together."

She frowned, "That's not fair! You're saying things have to be your way or you won't be with me!"

"No," I shook my head, speaking simply. "I'm not. I'm stating reality. You are welcome to make any decision you want. So am I. And I am not willing to date someone who can't be wrong. I'm not obligated to still date you just because you disagree with the reason I wouldn't."

"So," she shot back, "if I want to date you, I have to do what you say?"

"Not at all," I said, starting to feel frustrated. "You get to do whatever you want. That's your choice. What I do is my choice. The only way it works for us to date is if the two overlap. And it has to be honest overlapping. You can't just say that you are willing to be wrong, and I can't just say that what I'm willing to put up with how determined you are to be right. I'm not going to lie to be with you, and I hope you don't lie to be with me."

"Are you willing to be wrong?" she asked defensively.

"Yes," I said. "Completely. Some vampires deserve to die. You kill them. I completely accept that, and willingly support you."

"And the Cullens?" she asked. "Can you accept the possibility that they might all deserve to die?"

"Sure," I said. "I've seen no evidence of that, though."

She snorted, "A lack of evidence doesn't prove they're innocent."

I shook my head, "Nor does it prove guilt. I am willing to open my eyes and see more than what I want to see in order to prove myself right."

"You could still just be kidding yourself about them," she said.

"I'm not," I said evenly.

"How do you know that?" she demanded, and my patience was spent.

"Because she wanted to kill me!" I shot back.

At that, Josie started shaking. She was forced to take a knee and breathe for a moment.

"Calm," she whispered. "He's safe. She isn't even here. Calm. Breathe."

I put a hand on her shoulder once the shimmering around her vanished.

"But she never hurt me," I said. "She never came closer to killing me than you did. Not once did she spill my blood."

I took a deep breath, trying to hide the hurt, "She cared about me. Despite what she was, she did everything she could to rise above what she was to be a better person."

"What she was," scoffed Jose. "She was a vampire!"

"Yep," I said. "A good one. The best I've ever known. Better than most people. Better than me."

"Better than me?" she asked bluntly, confrontational.

"Yes," I said simply.

She looked offended.

"She would look passed what you are," I said. "She would try to see the good in you."

Josie didn't look happy. She looked at the sand, hurting and angry. She shook her head, but not in a defiant way.

"If she hadn't left," she asked, sounding like she didn't want to know the answer, "if she had stayed with you, would you be interested in me at all? Would we even be friends?"

I stood before her. I put my hands on my shoulders and looked into her face. She only tried to avoid my gaze for a moment, then she looked at me.

"You were my friend before I started dating her," I said. "You were my friend during, and after. We would be friends, I am sure. We have too much fun and I am happy with you, more than any of my other friends. But, if I was with her, I wouldn't be with you. I cared about her a lot. I loved her."

She looked at me, totally miserable, "And if she comes back?"

I came up short.

"She's not coming back," I said.

She shook her head, "You don't really believe that."

"What makes you so sure?" I asked.

"Because you won't leave," she said. "Because you exercise, which has the added benefit of making you more attractive, or so people seem to think. All your discipline, your wardrobe upgrade, you spending money on nothing but school. It's all in case she actually comes back."

"But she's not," I said. "She had her reasons."

There was a moment of silence, other than waves and wind.

"Why did she leave?" she asked.

I took a rough breath, "I don't know. She said a lot of things. Things like thinking that she could be with me was her just lying to herself, that we could never be. She said she was trying to be something she couldn't. She said she wasn't a girl, wasn't human."

She looked at me, "When did she say this to you?"

"When I was in the hospital," I answered.

She smirked, "Doesn't narrow it down."

"Oh shut up!" I complained, still laughing. "After I was attacked. After I was nearly killed, by Jamie."

She thought for a minute, hard, then said, "Wait. Wait wait wait. So, you are attacked and nearly killed by a vampire, a vampire you met while with her, and she turns around, throws you a bunch of excuses, and says 'peace out'?"

"Bunch of excuses?" I asked. "She told me she didn't love me!"

"Ben, just because a girl says something doesn't make it true," she said. "She was basically saying 'it's not you, it's me, things didn't work out the way if should have, I was wrong, that's just the way things are, it was great while it lasted, but I have to do my own thing now'. Yes?"

"I... guess," I said. "Why?"

She gritted her teeth, "Stupid bloodsucker!"

"What!?" I said, jumping back at her sudden outburst.

"She cared about you!" she all but spat.

"Yeah," I said, "she did. What are you talking about?"

"No!" she bellowed. "I mean, it's why she left! She didn't want you getting hurt!"

"I..." I thought about it. "Wait. No. She left because she said she couldn't love me."

She looked at me, "She told you she didn't love you, or she couldn't love you?"

"I..." I said, holding my head. "No! You're confusing me!"

"That stupid bitch," she said. "I can't- Urgh!"

She kicked a bit of driftwood. The splinters burst into the surf, spraying like a shotgun blast. Pretty impressive, considering she was barefooted.

"I can't even hate her," she said. "She left for you. She didn't want to hurt you. She cut you off, telling you exactly what you didn't want to hear. She broke you, perfectly."

"She kept trying to leave me," I said, a low ache starting in my chest, "in the beginning. She was afraid that she wasn't good enough for me."

"Well," she snorted, "she and I agree on one thing."

"She was risking my life, whenever we were together," I said. "Before she left, there was only two possibilities for us. For me, really."

"Only two," scoffed Josie. "You're so sure?"

I looked at her. She looked confused.

"Alice," I said, "her sister, had an ability. She could see the future."

Josie laughed. She quit laughing.

"You're serious?" she asked, denial all over her face.

"Yes," I said. "A few of them had... I don't know... abilities, beyond the norm for vampires."

Her eyes went wide, then her face fell.

"That," she said, "isn't good."

"What?" I asked.

"We heard stories," she said, "rumors almost, of what vampires could do. We hoped they were just that; rumors."

I realized suddenly that this was information they didn't have. For a moment, I felt like a traitor. But, a traitor to whom? This wasn't a war. There were no sides here. The Cullens weren't coming back. I wasn't betraying anyone.

"She," I said, "could read minds."

Josie caught my tone and understood.

"Oh," she said. "That must have sucked."

"Hmm?" I asked.

"She totally could have used that to her advantage," she went on. "How could you ever know if she wasn't just telling you what you wanted to hear, playing on you thoughts to her advantage?"

"One," I said, trying not to sound defensive, "she wasn't like that, and two, she didn't, ever. She couldn't."

"Huh?" replied Josie. "What does that even mean?"

"I was the only exception," I said. "I think it bugged her more than she let on. She could never know me as she knew others. She had to go on faith whenever I was honest with her. She never got to know what I was thinking."

There was a sudden flash of memories; her eager, inquisitive expression, her golden eyes, the way she bit her lip, how gentle she could be with her touch, her sorrowful expression at all the things about her life that she wished that she could change.

I felt like I was going to puke. I felt like a piece of my chest had been ripped out, dragging stray strings of gore as it was pulled away, uncleanly in every sense of the word. Josie caught me as I went down, retching so hard on my sudden sobs that I was choking, spluttering out a series of racking coughs.

She held me as I tried to get my body back under my control, but it was many minutes before I could breathe right and even then, it was labored.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No," I rasped, "it isn't you. I have spent so long... walling this all away. I didn't know, had thought it would..."

I wanted to be good at this. I wanted everything to be fine. I hadn't wanted to still care so deeply about... all of this. I wanted it behind me. I didn't want to be hurting anymore. I didn't want to matter. It to matter? I didn't want it to matter anymore!

She sat beside me on the beach, holding my hand, her head to mine.

"You loved her," she said simply.

I nodded.

"You didn't convince yourself that you did," she went on, "you actually did. Despite everything, you saw reason to love her?"

Again, I nodded.

She straightened, shaking her head so that she wouldn't smack it into mine.

"I just don't get it," she said. "I mean, I understand it, but it just doesn't make sense. I'm not saying you're wrong or that I'm right. I just don't see how it's possible."

I smiled, looking into her dark eyes, "Says the werewolf."

She grinned and for a moment, I could see the wolf behind the girl. She was in there, just as the girl was in the wolf. It was as much a part of her as anything could be, something as naturally a part of her as her hair or her skin or that smile. It was who she was.

"Okay," she says, "I guess, I guess it isn't impossible that she might have been a decent enough person for you to care about her. But that doesn't mean I have to like it, or her. She still left and ripped your heart out, even if she did it for all the right reason. She didn't need to do that. She could have left things better for you."

"I just don't understand," I said. "I mean, if she wanted to leave, she could have just left. But she didn't. She broke my heart. She told me she couldn't love me. She said I would never see her again. What part of that makes sense? If she really was trying to protect me, why would she hurt me like that?"

There was a long pause. Josie looked out over the sea, lost in thought. After a moment, she sat straighter.

"No," she said. "No, there's no way."

"Why?" I asked. "What is it?"

"See, I might be crazy," she said, "I might just be thinking this because it's what I want, but hear me out. Maybe she did it so you could move on."

"What?" I said exasperatedly. "What do you mean?"

"Ben," she said, almost chidingly. "Up until a couple of months ago, everything you did was about her. You're every action was based around either trying to avoid her, trying to avoid anything that could make your pain worse, or waiting for her to come back. Like, absolutely everything. There was a while there where I thought we would never get this far because I thought you would be convinced that if you moved on, that would mean that you didn't really love her and she was right to leave. Hell, I am amazed you got this far on your own. Just imagine what would have happened if she left you even a shred of hope that she would come back some day."

She was right. Even now, a painful thread of hope was trying to work its way back into me. At the very idea that she only broke my heart in hopes that I would move on had me wanting to hold out for her, just because I wanted her back. It hurt to even consider hoping, because, when it came down to it, Edwina hurt me. She put me through the damned worst year of my life. And I couldn't just forgive her so easily.

But then, it occurred to me. It had been a year. Or, at least, it would be in a few days. And I realized, as horrible as that time had been for me, now, it was being made up to me.

"You're wrong," I said.

She narrowed her eyes at me, "How?"

"I didn't get this far on my own," I said. "I got here with you."

She took a long, shuttering breath, staring at me intently.

"Oh hell," she said, and suddenly we were rolling in the sand, her lips on mine, us both trying not to laugh as we clung to each other. Eventually, my hand found hers, mostly to stop it from wandering somewhere it shouldn't. The other held her to me, and finally, we settled, our hand near our faces as I use my thumb to brush sand from her face without untwisting our entwined fingers.

"That's enough of that," I said, smiling when our lips finally parted.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding it in the least.

"I am not going to put up with you jumping my bones," I said, mock authoritarian.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked mockingly. "Spank me?"

At the moment, she was leaning over me, our legs jumbled. I smiled as the hand that had been on the small of her back lifted, coming down with significant force.

"Ow!" I gasped as the resounding thwack shot pretty much the entire force of my smack right back up my arm.

"Oh, ow!" I cried again.

She burst out laughing, getting up as I sat up, nursing my hand and arm.

She was positively rolling in the sand, doubled over, gut laughing, holding her sides.

"I think you broke something," I said, clutching my hand, which only made her howl the louder.

"I'm sorry!" she finally got out, several minutes later. "I'm sorry!"

"Can we get some ice?" I asked, disgruntled. "Please."

She started to look embarrassed herself, winding down.

"You're really hurt?" she asked.

"No," I said defiantly, then easier. "Some ice might be nice, though."

"I really am sorry," she said as we started to walk back. "I'm not a wilting flower anymore."

"Did you even feel that?" I asked, starting to feel a little curious.

"Sure, sure," she said. "It's just that my thresholds are much higher now. It takes a lot more than a punch for me to feel pain. At least, a human's punch."

I smiled, still embarrassed, "So I guess spanking's out."

She got her devious little smile.

"Well," she said, "not unless you have a crowbar..."

I came up short, and she kept walking, with a little more sway in her hips than I thought she had a moment before.

We got back to her place and sat on her porch as she brought out a glass of limeade and a baggy of ice wrapped in a towel. I iced my hand and sipped as she watched me, a strange look on her face, happy but something more.

"What?" I asked, self-conscious.

"I don't get you," she said. "You can believe things that I just don't understand, that I totally don't agree with, but that doesn't change how I feel about you."

I sort of understood what she meant.

"What?" I asked. "You expected to kick me to the curb for my shenanigans?"

"Yeah, actually," she said loudly. "I guess I sort of expected that I would be with someone who agreed with me on the big things."

I thought about that, "That's just stupid."

She looked shocked.

"No one is going to agree with you on everything," I said. "And even if they did, you might as well be dating yourself."

"I should be so lucky," she laughed.

I blinked, "Huh?"

She grinned, "I'm hot. That could be fun."

I took a deep breath, trying very, very hard not to let my mind throw any mental images my way. Totally didn't work.

"You did that on purpose!" I complained, shaking my head.

She grinned, "And?"

I sighed, readjusting the ice.

"My point is this," I said. "I am not defined by my choices. Who I am defines my choices for me. I could care less what you think of my choices, but there isn't such a thing as accepting me without accepting what I do. It's my choice. And you're doing that. You are accepting me even though you don't agree. That's important."

"So," she said, "if you do something I can't accept?"

"That's up to you," I said. "I don't expect you to accept me all the time because I'm an idiot who does stupid things sometimes."

I held up my hand with the ice pack balanced on it.

"But," I went on, "if you choose to decide that you can't accept me, then we can't be together. I need someone who accepts me like that. Can you?"

She thought for a moment, shaking her head.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "But I can try."

I smiled and took her hand in mine free one.

"Good," I said. "And, but the way, why are you so hot?"

She looked at me for a moment and snorted.

"No!" I said loudly. "I mean, yeah, but no! Temperature- you know what I mean!"

She laughed, which turned more sympathetic when I started to pout.

"I just want to carry you around in my pocket," she said, sidling up to me and putting an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm a little big," I replied seriously.

She looked away.

"What?" I asked.

"Mm-mm," she negated, her lips tight shut.

"What?" I asked adamantly.

"Nope!" she said, keeping her eyes away from me.

"Tell me!" I demanded.

Finally, her eyes met mine.

"That's what she said," she laughed.

"I..." then I got it.

I blushed furiously!

She laughed. A lot.

"I tried," she barely got out, "I tried to tell..."

She dissolved into giggles again.

I had had enough. I reached over and poked her in the ribs. Tough as she was, she jumped, looking surprised.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, biting her inward turned lips.

"No," I said. "That was a thing. What?"

"It just kinda," she said, "sorta, tickled, is all."

"Oh?" I asked, my eyebrow raised.

She looked fiercely at me.

"I will hurt you," she said, her voice low.

"One injury's enough for today," I said.

"Okay," she said. "Wait, 'for today'?"

"Oh," I said, "I'm totally filing this away for future reference. I'll risk my neck some other day."

"You are a terrible human being!" she cried, looking ensconce at me.

"Oh, well," I said jokingly, "you're a very polite wolf."

She rolled her eyes at me, "Jerk."

"Tease," I shot back.

"Boy," she replied.

"Bitch," I cut in.

"Damn straight," she laughed.

We spent the rest of the day curled up on her couch, watching silly action movies.

"But why would anyone want to travel back in time?" I asked. "Why not move forward and get better technology, then come back with it."

"Because," she said, "you always run the risk of coming in contact with the unknown. Can't plan for the unknown."

"It just seems tedious," I said. "There has to be an easier way to get things done."

We ate a meal with Belinda. I cooked since they were providing the food. Finally, it was starting to get late, and Josie walked me out to the truck.

"Tomorrow?" I asked. "Same deal?"

"Sure," she said. "Bikes?"

"Sounds good," I answered.

I leaned against my truck and she stood in the yard.

"This was fun," I said at the same time she asked, "How's your hand?"

"Good," we both said back and laughed.

"Better," I said.

"Okay," she said. "Just so you know, squeezing works better."

"Are you inviting me to grope you?" I asked.

"Did I say that?" she asked. "It just something for you to file away. Future information, right?"

I grinned at her, "That wasn't a 'no'."

She grinned back, "Caught that, did you?"

I took a deep breath, "You know, considering one of us jumped the other already once today, I don't think we should push our luck."

She shook her head, "You take all the fun out of everything."

I reached out for her hand. She took it. I pulled her close to me, hips to hips, though I was still leaning well back on my truck.

"Look," I said. "I made a decision a while back. I decided that I was not going to lose my virginity on a spur of the moment, hormonal sort of thing. Now, I know I haven't been good about holding to that over the last few months with you, but I want to respect my promise to myself and my agreement with you. If I am with you, for my first time, I really do want it to be for love."

She touched my chest, "And there's the problem!"

"What?" I asked.

"Every time you say something so honest, so thoughtful, so right," she intoned rather passionately, "it make me want you. How can you pushing me away make me want you more?!"

"The world is just funny like that," I said, smiling.

We were quiet a long moment, though there was no awkwardness to it.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, ironically.

"I don't know," I said. "Can you?"

She shoved my shoulder, starting to get the hang of not crippling me with her playful blows.

"I'm serious," she said, her tone just that.

I sobered, "Ask me."

She looked down, not quite embarrassed or shy. She seemed nervous, as though she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what I had to say.

Without hesitation, I pulled her into my arms. Her arms went around me, and she burrowed her warm face into the hollow of my neck, squeezing tight to me.

"If she comes back," she said, "will you leave- would you go back to her?"

"She's not coming back," I said immediately.

"If she did?" she asked.

"She's not," I said, trying not to say it harshly.

"But, if she did?" she asked gently.

I can't find the words.

"Josie," I finally said, "I don't give up on my choices lightly. If I'm with you, then I'm with you."

She smiled, amused and sad at the same time, "That wasn't a 'no'."

I nearly choked on my chuckle, having to reply, "You caught that, did you?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not perfect," I said. "I shouldn't want to go back to her. She ripped my heart out and left me alone."

"She also gave you every reason to move on," she said gently. "Do you want to?"

It took me a moment to get what she was asking. I hadn't really considered the question yet. Did I want to give up on Edwina? The choice wasn't mine, so I hadn't really thought about it.

"I had my decision made for me," I said. "If I had a choice, I would have stayed with her. But I didn't have a choice. So, I'm making the best on that I can, given my options."

She didn't look happy about that answer.

I hooked my finger under her chin.

"You can take that however you want," I said. "It doesn't change how much I care about you, and what I'm doing here, and now."

Gently, I kissed her. It was sweet, heartfelt and heartrending at the same time. She kissed me back, making a small murmur that almost sounded like a sob.

Slowly, the kiss relented, and she had tears in her eyes. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to mine.

"I think..." she said. "I think that was our first, really real kiss. As it should have been, ya know?"

I smiled and promptly groped her.

She laughed and pushed away from me.

"You jerk!" she said. "We were having a moment!"

"Can't have that," I grinned. Totally worth it.

She came back and kissed me again, quickly, then ran back to the house. I got in the truck and headed home.

I fully expected that mom would be watching TV or in bed already since it was a work night. Instead, she was at the table, eating a sandwich.

"Hey," I said, walking it. "Late night?"

"Yeah," she said gruffly.

I took a second look at her.

"Hey," I said meaningfully. "What's up?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing serious. I mean... Uh, here."

She pulled out a newspaper.

"Have you heard about this?" she asked.

I glanced at the newspaper. Apparently, there was a string of unexplained murders and disappearances in Seattle.

"No," I said. "Is this a problem?"

She looked more upset.

"Yes, Ben," she said, her words hard. "People getting killed is a problem."

"No," I said. "I meant, is this something that affects you, directly?"

She sighed.

"Yes," she said. "One of the girls who disappeared was a local, Riley Biers. Did you know her? She was a year ahead of you and was in Seattle for school. Her parents are really bent out of shape about it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," I said, genuinely sympathetic. "Do they know what happened?"

"No," she said, sounding sad. "Best they can tell, she left a late class and disappeared. Not a trace. No one saw anything out if the ordinary. They even found footage of her walking her normal route about halfway home past a convenient store. No one was following her or anything. She just vanished."

Something about this struck me as odd, as wrong. I read the article in more detail. Many of these cases sounded the same. People were being killed in ways that were described as ritualistic, all the bodies burned. There were also strange cases of arson, where no bodies were found at all, just ash. Some of the disappearances were unexplainable, as in the case where someone disappeared from a locked apartment, another from a concert in the middle of the crowd, one from an art gallery with surveillance systems, one from a party in which everyone had alibis and were accounted for. All were public, all were secure, and no one saw anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

"Hey," she said. "You okay? You look... weird."

"I'm fine," I said mechanically. "I forgot my phone at Josie's. I need to go get it."

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to bed soon. Don't be too late."

I was in La Push as soon as I could be. I pulled up, and as I did, Josie walked around the house, from the back.

"What is it?" she asked, straightening her shirt.

"I need to talk to Sam," I said.

"She's busy," she said. "Can it wait?"

"Maybe not," I said. "It might be important."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Drive to her place. I'll get her."

She disappeared around the house.

I drove to Sam's and found her and Josie waiting.

Sam didn't look happy.

"What is it?" she said loudly.

"This," I said, pulling out the paper.

She glanced at it.

"What am I looking for?" she asked, scanning.

"The murders," I said. "I need the Alpha's opinion."

She was suddenly more serious. She read, and her expression went from weary to focused to concerned.

"Could this be what I think it is?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said. "It is even likely. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"What?" asked Josie. "What is it?"

Sam and I shared a look. She turned to Josie.

"Vampires."


	11. Chapter 11: Obstacles

I stood in the small circle of the pack, which was composed of Sam, Quinn, and Josie. The other two were running a circuit of the area, even though it was day. Sam wasn't taking any chances. Josie, in her wolf form, was sitting on her haunches, still as tall as she was in human form, staying in connection with the other two wolves.

"What do you think?" asked Sam.

"I'm not sure," I said. "If I had to guess, I'd say this was Victor. He's the only vampire I know of in the area, though, so it seems about as likely as it is unlikely that I'm right. But I don't get it. Vampires are supposed to stay out of the public eye."

Sam shook her head, "It doesn't matter. If Victor is behind this, then it is likely that he will be coming this way."

"Meaning?" I asked.

"Whatever he's doing," said Sam, "it is another layer of strategy. He tried one tactic, send the lone vampire, a lackey of some kind, to us. Then, he sent an experienced vampire, and again, we stopped him. There is a natural progression her; as a strategy fails, a new one is used."

"Experienced?" I asked.

She nodded, "I was able to take the first vampire on my own. It was strong, stronger than any other vampire we've faced, but it was no fighter. It had no skill at combat at all. The other, Laurent, was skilled. Though weaker, she fought well, and ably, and it took us working together to take her down."

And suddenly, I had it.

"He's making them," I said.

Again, they looked at me.

"Where did he get the lackey?" I asked. "Where can you just get a really strong, untrained vampire? You make one. I'm sure if you know how and you're able, making one isn't that hard. But one didn't do it. Even an experienced one couldn't do it. So, why sent one when you can send more?"

"He's recruiting," said Sam, putting a hand under her chin. "Yes, that fits. The disappearances. The bodies aren't gone. They're just not dead."

"And the arson," said Quinn. "If one of these recruits gets out of hand, they killed it, burn the body."

I flinched. They didn't seem to notice. I sometimes forget that they know a lot about killing vampires.

"We have no idea how many there are or when they'll be coming," said Sam. "We need as many paws on the ground as we can get. We'll run three up, two down until further notice."

Josie whined, looking pointedly at me.

"I'm sorry, Josie," said Sam. "But Ben is just one person. These new vampire recruits could just as easily be headed straight for us, for our known lines. We can't spare even one of us for just him."

Josie shook her head, then made a wide circular motion with her nose.

Sam frowned, "I'm not getting it."

Josie turned, her nose meeting my shoulder. She pushed me around so that I was facing the other direction, then prodded me a step away.

"Fine," I said sarcastically, before I could think about the company. "It's not like I wanted to see you naked anyway."

I received a poke in the back of my head for my trouble.

"Oh would you just bone her already?!" said Quinn in exasperation. "Get it out of both your systems so we can all move on."

I wasn't sure what happened behind me, but there was a yelp and the clip of teeth.

Finally, Josie spoke.

"I will stay with him when he's here," she said, "and run the lines when he's not. I'll run the whole Forks circuit myself if I have to."

"We're going to run a circuit of Forks," Sam said, "as we have been. Nothing changes other than the frequency. We need to be careful not to be-"

There was a rustle. I almost turned around to see what was happening. But suddenly the wolf that was Josie ran past me, followed by two more a few seconds. I turned and found two more piles of clothing. I gathered them all up, stepped out of the woods, walking towards Sam's the short distance away. Leaving the clothing on the back porch, I went inside, knocking before I walked in.

"Carefully there, little man," I heard Mason from the kitchen. "This is going to be really hot. You don't want to get burned, do you?"

"Hey," I said, walking up.

Mason beamed from the kitchen.

"You're the only one who knocks," he said, pulling something pie-like out of the oven, smelling of meat and veggies.

To my surprise, a little boy came stepping out from around Mason, looking at me. As soon as he got a good look at me, he turned and hid behind Mason's knees.

"Who's this?" I asked, a little surprised. Did I totally miss that they had a little boy?

"This is my nephew, Clay," he said. "He can be a bit shy around new people, especially girls, but he will warm up to you."

Then he looked at my face, and his fell.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Not sure," I said, shaking my head. "They took off before the meeting was over. No explanation."

He nodded, "Ah. Okay."

He put the pie down and went back dancing with Clay around the kitchen, fussing good-naturedly and feeding him little bits here and there, and other than the occasional glance at me, Clay was a lot more animated and soon wasn't even still and quiet when he looked at me.

"You're not worried?" I asked after a bit, starting to feel a bit anxious myself.

"Nope," he said with a brief smile, picking up Clay and swinging him about, distracting him.

"Why?" I asked.

"Two reasons," he said, hanging the little boy upside down over one shoulder. "One, it isn't my place. I'm not the one out there, and I would be out of my depth if I was. It's no use for me worrying about something I don't know about. And two, the worst that could happen is that Sam will die, and she will do so in the defense of our people. I would be sad, sure, but I would be proud more."

I thought about what he said. It occurred to me then, for the first time, that Josie could fail. She had won every fight she had had with a vampire so far, but that didn't mean that she would win them all. She might die. She might be killed doing this, and if I was going to be hers and have her be mine, I would have to accept that. For the moment, I absolutely hated the idea. I wanted to tie her to a chair and sit on her so she wouldn't... No, even then, she would still be able to get away and do so without hurting me.

He laughed, "Don't worry! They're learning too. They get stronger and better every time they hunt, and as one learns something, soon they all do."

I thought about that and nodded. That was a really useful trick, now that I thought about it. The pack got better as one. The best became the best in all of them. I wondered what the world would be like if everyone got to learn like that.

I heard the call the signified a pack approaching. I stepped out the back door and ran right into Josie's arms.

She hugged me to her and laughed.

"It's okay," she said. "We're okay. Everything's okay."

Josie drew back, looking into my eyes, her face concerned but not distressed.

"Amber," she said. "She phased."

It took me a moment for that to soak in.

"So," I said, "new member of the pack."

"Yep," she said, popping the P. "Come on. I'm starving."

We walked inside, and Josie came up short, apparently as surprised by Clay as I was.

"New member?" asked Mason.

"Yeah," said Josie, her eyes following Clay with a weary interest, almost speculative. I was looking at Mason. For a guy who claimed to be out of the know, he understood a lot.

"Hey, tike," said Mason. "Come say hi to Uncle Mason's friends."

At that moment I heard the door again, and Quinn walked in.

"She is going to be a handful for a bit," she said conversationally. "Sam is putting it to her hard."

Clay stepped out from around Mason's legs, looking shy. I was trying to sort out what I was more interested in, asking about Amber or food, when the whole feel of the room seemed to change. I don't know why, but Mason looked at Quinn and Josie immediately turned and looked too. I did as well, and she was standing there, in mid-stride, her mouth opened like she was about to say something more, just staring at Clay, her eyes huge. I watched as the joking pleasant expression slowly melted off her face, moving through confusion and blankness to awe and almost tearful vulnerability.

She collapsed to her knees, somehow making the motion look controlled and slower than gravity should have been able to pull her down. As she knelt there, my attention was torn away as Clay, bouncy and boyish, galumphed his way up to her, throwing his arms around her neck.

She looked shocked, her arms going around him as though there wasn't anything else that could have possibly been done in that instant. Then, like that, she was smiling, tears in her eyes. She caught him up, tossing him squealing into the air, catching him carefully by his ankles and carrying him giggling about the living room. I hadn't seen anything like it. The utter look of joy she had, the way she played him, watching him as though there was no greater gift she could have but to be with him. I had seen that look a time or two before. I felt like my guts had come to life and tied themselves in knots before trying to eat themselves.

Josie and Mason exchanged a significant look, before Mason swept in, handing a container of baby carrots to Quinn, who immediately began wrangling the toddler into eating his snack, laughing the whole while.

"This is all we need," muttered Josie.

"What?" I asked. "What is it?"

She looked at the food, then, looking disheartened, grabbed my hand and began leading me out of the house. I went with her, knowing that answers would come.

We walked up the beach a ways, both quiet and keeping our distance for some reason.

"Okay," she said at last. "So, remember when I mentioned that there was a story? With Mason and Sam, a love triangle, and all that?"

"Yeah," I said. "Are you going to tell me now?"

"Well, duh, obviously," she said, pausing again.

I knew her well enough to know that she was stalling.

"Josie," I insisted, taking her hand. "What is your deal?"

She came up short, "Nothing!"

I quirked an eyebrow.

"I-" she started, then caved. "Okay, fine."

She shook herself out, almost as though she were preparing for some bout of physical activity.

"Okay," she said again. "When Sam phased for the first time, it was rough."

"How so?" I asked.

She laughed, "I had it easy! I had four other people, one of which I knew really well, to share my headspace with. She had a whole lot of nothing. One day, she was perfectly normal, doing things girls around La Push normally do, then, one day, boom! Wolf. No one there, no one to explain, no nothing. She thought she was going crazy once she figured out what was going on. It took more than a week before she calmed down enough to change back. And she couldn't explain to anyone what had happened, not even her fiancée."

"Well," I said, almost defensively, "Mason seems to have handled it pretty well since then."

Her expression was hard.

"What?" I asked.

"She wasn't engaged to Mason," she said simply.

I froze, then looked back the way he had come. It seemed impossible to me. Seeing them together, how they fit, it was so obvious that they belonged together. It was so... natural, the very idea of them not being together was just... wrong, somehow.

"I don't understand," I said. "What happened?"

She took a deep breath followed by a long sigh, "What do you know about imprinting?"

"I've never heard of it," I admitted.

"Okay," she said, "so we don't really understand it, not completely. We don't know why it happens or how, but it's like, you find your other half. It makes you feel like less and more, all at the same time. It changes your whole life. It's like soulmates. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you know the Clearwaters?"

I nodded, because I did.

"Yeah," I said, "Harriet Clearwater is one of my mom's oldest friends. She is married and has two kids, Lee and Cynthia."

She nodded, "Lee was engaged to Sam. He went crazy when she disappeared. He just about searched ever inch of the res and all the spots he knew she went. He was about to start turning over stones and dragging rivers when Sam came back. There was some huge scandal, and for a while people thoughts she took off to go have an abortion. It was bad. But she never even tried to explain. She was too sure that she was going crazy. Then one day, she met old Quinn."

"Who?" I asked.

She laughed, "Quinn's grandmother. My great aunt."

"Wait," I said, "you're related to Quinn?"

"Yeah," she said. "Our great-grandmother was the first Quinn Ateara and a member of the last pack. Quinn is the fifth. There was pretty much no way I wasn't going to be in this pack. I had it on my dad's side and my mother's side. But stop interrupting!"

"Sure, sure," I said, and she kicked sand at me.

"Old Quinn, the second, is on the Council with my mom and Harriet Clearwater. Anyway, she was admiring the bracelet Lee made her, sort of a Tribal engagement gift, when she touched Sam's wrist and just about had a heart attack."

I straightened, "What, why?"

She laughed and put her arms around me, and I was suddenly nearly stifled in her heat.

"Right," I said, then with a little smirk, "I keep forgetting how hot you are..."

The expression she gave me just about made my blood boil.

"I'll have to do a better job reminding you," she said, the timber of words more suggestive than her look. I shivered. She grinned.

"Anyway," she said, dropping her arms and missing my nearly disappointed look, "the Elders got together and called Sam to them and explained things to her. They told her there would be others and she would be the Alpha. She's Chieftess of the whole tribe."

"Chieftess?" I asked skeptically. "Is that even a word?"

"It is now!" she shot back, affronted. "It's my word, I can say it. It's a word!"

"Sure, sure," I said, and she immediately grabbed me, dragging me into the sand.

"Ack, no!" I protested, trying to stop her from shoveling sand down the front of my shirt. I immediately poked her in the ribs, and she jumped, looking suddenly weary and indignant.

"You are so dead," she said, grinning.

I reached completely around her waist, my hand ending right at her sides, each on the opposite one, and held on for dear life, my fingers going to work the whole time. She chainsawed laughter, unable to focus enough to pulling me off without hurting me, settling for writhing on the beach, trying to break my grip by arching and wriggling alone. All things considered, it was one of my most enjoyable ideas ever. Finally, having to hold her top in place, she finally broke my hold and rolled away from me, me a bit bruised and battered, her panting and still giggling.

"You..." she gasped, "are... so dead..."

"Oh," I said in mock surprise, before imitating checking my pulse. "Oh, phew! Nope, still good."

She shot at me with a speed I could not combat, actually rolling with me a few times, around each other, before finally landing on top of me, pinning my hands to the sand, her face above mine, straddling my hips. Fortunately for me, she couldn't shovel additional sand in my shirt and still pin my hands. Unfortunately for me, I would have had a great view from this position, if it wouldn't have been abundantly obvious where my eyes were if they dropped even the slightest bit south of her eye line.

She smirked like she knew exactly what I was thinking. She probably did.

"You know," I said, "if you keep this up, I'll never hear the end of your story. Plus, I'll have to head home and shower."

"I have a shower," she said.

I blinked at her, and she actually blushed.

"I meant that you could use!" she said loudly, getting up and seeming shy all of a sudden.

I got up after her, "What was that?"

"What was what?" she asked, avoiding my eyes.

"I'm not above tickling you again!" I said loudly.

She looked at me just long enough to glare and started walking away.

I decided that I had been mean enough. I stepped up behind her, my arms going around her. She quit walking and stayed still as I pull my lips to her ear.

"Tell me," I whispered. "Tell me, tell me. Please."

I brushed her ear with my lips with every word, and she started to tremble.

"You," she said shakily, "are the worst human being I've even known!"

I laughed, and she turned, her fingers hooking through the loops on my jeans, which I really liked and wondered why she hadn't ever done that before.

"Won't you tell me?" I asked, trying for persuasive. She looked a little shocked and looked away. I though she wasn't going to answer, and then said something about, "Dead might."

"Huh," I said, leaning so that I might hear her better.

"That night," she said pronounce succinctly. "The night I came into your room. I... uh... I've never..."

She sneaked a glance at me, then pushed me a step back, stepping away herself.

"Urgh!" she grouched, "stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Like I'm a little girl," she said. "Like I've never been that close to... to a..."

"A what?" I asked, totally lost.

"To a naked boy!" she blurted out.

I found myself looking up and down the beach, ensuring that we were alone.

"Look," she said, starting to walk again, slowly, her steps loping. "I had brothers, but they had their own room and pretty much got dressed in the bathroom after showers anyway. There's that, plus, duh, I like you, and then there's the whole new werewolf senses. You have no idea what it's like, how you smelled, just out of the shower; clean, but still salty, this sort of tasty boy smell that I never noticed before. You were all fresh soap and none of the usual funk people pick up. You didn't even smell like your clothes, other than the towel. And I could see even in the nearly dark room, how your damp skin gleamed, and how unselfconscious you were, the muscle you had put on, which normally does nothing for me, but for some reason, because it's you, I think, it just go me so... so..."

She tried not to look at me, but she kept checking to see, kept searching for any sign that I was judging her.

"I think about it," she stumbled over here words. "A lot. Sometimes when I can't sleep. Every single time I shower. It's sort of worked its way inside my brain and if you make fun of me, Ben Hawkins, I swear, I will never speak to you AGAIN!"

I stepped back as she twisted and half raged at me.

As I closed with her, she moved as if to grapple with me, and was taken aback as I pulled her tightly to me. She relaxed then, letting me hold her.

"I'm not going to make fun of you," I whispered. "Honestly, I had no idea. I'm not used to the idea that I can mean so much to someone. I've only had the one relationship, so, in a lot of ways, I have always felt like no matter how much I like someone or enjoy them or might care about them, they won't care about me the same way. The idea that I might affect someone, especially a girl like you, just seems so unexpected, practically foreign."

She pulled back to look sharply into my eyes, "What d'you mean, a girl like me?"

I snorted, "Such the opposite of me; the opposite of ordinary."

She punched. In the jaw. I may have seen stars.

"You cut that out right now!" she demanded.

I made a sound that was somewhat less than intelligible.

"You are an awesome person," she said loudly, pounding on my chest. "Don't pull that 'I feel worthless' crap with me. I won't stand for it."

"Okay, okay," I said, laughing for some reason. "Just quit beatin' on me!"

She hugged me, clinging to me, warm and suddenly sort of tearful.

"Hey," I said patting her back, "hey. What's that about?"

"Look," she said. "I have to finish my story. All of it. But I'm scared to. I should have told you a long time ago, but, I guess, I was hoping I wouldn't have to. I was hoping it would only be Sam."

"And it is?" I asked, sort of lost.

"Yeah, I'm getting to that. Where was I?"

I thought about it.

"Chieftess," I proclaimed, and she gave me an amused, sour look.

"Right," she said. "So, anyway, Sam got to hear all the legends and knew them now to be true. She had to keep the secret and ran on her own, waiting for her sisters to join her in her vigils over the people. One day, she was visiting with Lee, when his cousin Mason was visiting, and that was it."

"That was...?" I asked.

"She imprinted," Josie said, as though that explained it all.

I waited.

"It's..." she said, "okay, imagine, like, you have been living your whole life, without knowing that something has been missing. You have this hole in you, and you keep filling it up with all this stuff, things that you think are important, excuses for who you are and why, what you think is important, everything, just trying to fill this hole that you don't even know you have. And then, one day, you find it; the part of you that you never knew was missing. He pushes everything out of that hole. All the crap you have been using to fill yourself up, that you thought was so important, all the little silly justification and the excuse and all of that just get shoved out and falls away. Everything you thought was important, everything you knew, is colored by him. He becomes the center of your whole world. Nothing else matters."

I suddenly frown.

"That sounds-" I begin.

"Awful!" she bursts in. "It is the most patriarchal bull I have ever heard. You lose so much!"

I shake my head, "But you gain so much more-"

"No!" she snapped, looking angry. "Don't you dare defend it!"

I was taken aback, especially since I could see the tears starting to form in her eyes.

She went to push me, but I batted, a bit painfully, her arms aside and hugged her.

"Shut up," I said loudly. "Quit your yammering and just tell me."

She clung to me, and I heard her sniffle quietly as began to cry. I held her, stroking her back, her incredibly soft hair. She sobbed a long time, letting go like I had never had anyone let go in my presence, more than I ever had. After more than a minute of quiet after her breathing had become regular again, she said, "She left Lee."

And suddenly, this whole thing made sense.

"She left him," she went on. "No explanation, no discussion. He was left bitter and alone. When she found Mason, there was no choice. It was just over. They ended. I... I can't..."

I kissed her. It was fierce at first, impassioned. But it stilled, becoming a long satisfying release, a sighing sort of kiss, letting go. Finally, we parted, but only at our mouths, our faces staying close.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "You're not going to lose me."

"I might," she said, her voice still quavering.

"No!" she interrupted as I tried to deny it. "No. Even... even if she never comes back, even if she stays away forever, even if you are earnest and stay with me if she does return, we still might end up apart. One more thing might come into my life to take my choice away from me."

She pulled back, looking me in the face. Some of her tears were smudged, but new tracks were forming as they continued to fall. Her eyes bright, her passion and vulnerability upon her face, I had never seen her look so beautiful. It hurt to see it, overwhelming and heartrending. It was all I could do to let her speak and not try to comfort her still.

"I'm falling for you, Ben," she said. "Hard. I've been crushing on you since before I even liked boys. And then you came back, and you were so much more than just some prepubescent fantasy. You were real and good and dead sexy and, like, a person. And then you started dating her and then she broke your heart, and I thought I lost you twice over. But, against all odds, we were starting to work things out. Then I joined the pack, and I almost lost you a third time. And now, we are working really hard. We are figuring stuff out, and some day, I believe we will be together. I know it. And, even if everything works, even if we do everything right and do the work, we still might lose everything because I imprint on some boy somewhere."

A question seemed to sort itself out in my head. She hadn't imprinted on me. That seemed significant for some reason, but I immediately reasoned that if it was all that important, all the wolves would have partners. But maybe they just hadn't done it yet. Did that mean we weren't meant to be together?

"See?" she said, looking into my face. "I knew I shouldn't have told you. Already, you have doubts."

I looked at her, hard.

"And you don't?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, trying to build herself up, long enough for me to raise my eyebrows skeptically.

"Okay, yeah," she said, sighing it out. "Fine."

I adjusted my hands at her waist, keeping her eyes.

"Can you control the future?" I asked.

She snorted, looking away a moment as she tried not to laugh.

"No," she said.

"Well damn!" I exclaimed. "Neither can I! Everything could change tomorrow. Be it imprinting or werewolves or vampires or witchcraft or zombies or school or college or angels and demons or the damned apocalypse. We could be dead tomorrow. I'm here. And you're here. As long as we keep choosing to be here, we will be. And if something changes, we'll deal. You aren't going to lose me. Even if we aren't together, I'm with you, as long as you'll have me."

She nodded but looked as though she had a frog in her throat.

"But what if that changes too?" she asked.

"Then it changes," I said. "I have no doubt that you have the strength to find your way back to being happy. Nothing is going to keep you down. I know it. Not even losing me. Seriously? You think you're going to lose everything over a silly boy? Over some dumb breakup? What are you? Me?"

She actually laughed, though there were tears in her eyes. I couldn't tell if they were happy or sad.

"You are the bravest person I have ever known," I said. "Even before the wolf thing. You were willing to tell me to get stuffed rather compromise wanting love, daring me to be a halfway decent person. You were willing to fight past the wolfier parts of your life to make this work. Sure, the future scares you. It scares everyone who has more than two cents to rub together. But I can't believe for a second that you'd let that stop you."

She just looked at me, her eyes a little wide, her expression intent.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked.

I guffawed, "Sure."

"Good," she said. "I wasn't going to give you a choice."

She took my face in her hands, and I put my arms around the middle of her back. She leaned back against them, pulling my face with her. Her faces surged against each other, a dance of lips with a touch of tongues, sea breeze blowing across us, our clothing rippling, being dragged out from us if it was long enough.

At last, we pulled apart. At last, we looked into each others' faces. It felt like we were on the edge of something, the top of a roller coaster, about to start the ride as soon as we tipped. Then she turned, her head whipping back to the houses down the beach.

"We have to go," she said. "It's a call home."

"Why?" I asked.

"It's a howl," she said, starting back. "It's Quinn. She's calling us back. It isn't the hunting howl. But we need to go."

"What's going on?" I asked, falling into step.

"There is only one reason to call us home," she said, her voice hard. "One of the Elders is in jeopardy. Nothing else would be cause to leave the lines unprotected."

I suddenly remembered that her mother was an Elder.

"Let's run," I said. And we did.


	12. Chapter 12: Culmination

Harriet Clearwater died on Thursday, of a heart attack. She had held on for two days in the hospital, said her goodbyes to her friends and children, and her husband Stewart. After that, she let go, and her body failed soon after that.

My mother was crushed. She did her best not to cry in front of me, and there were times when she would just hug me, and whispered, "Those poor kids. Cynthia is barely fifteen years old. I love you kid. I know I never say it, but I want you to know that."

Then she would walk off and come back about eight hours later.

Josie was a rock for her mom. She didn't show her heartache, not until it was just the two of us, alone. She hugged me so tight it hurt. She cried with an old pain, and I knew she was remembering her dad, would have known even without her whispering "Daddy" as she sobbed into me. I let her. I held her. I stroked her hair and just breathed, letting her express her grief as she saw fit and take in what little comfort she could by my presence. I asked her if she needed anything else when she cried herself out, and she just kissed me and said that I was enough. More than enough.

The funeral was on Saturday, and I went, despite not knowing her, supporting Josie and my mom. It was really more of a service than a funeral. I got the impression that there was another ceremony another time that outsiders weren't a part of. I spent most of the time standing between the two ladies, mom on my left and Josie on my right, her mother close beside her. We spoke little, offered out condolences to the Clearwaters. Lee was hard-edged and unhappy, but Cynthia looked so much like Josie in miniature, it hurt just to look at her. Stewart was stalwart and true, looking as though he was making the best of a hard loss, but grateful for any and all offerings. I immediately liked the guy and felt doubly sorry for the loss. Finally near the end, near the back where no one much could see, Josie climbed into her mother's lap, and the two held each other. Josie still held my hand, refusing to let it go. I stood beside her, placing my free hand on her shoulder and she squeezed to let me know it was okay. Mom came up next to me, putting her arm around me and her other hand found one of Lin's. We stood there, in our intermingling grief, as Quinn and Karen walked over, standing as a shield for us from the others who might disturb our mourning. A single tear ran down my cheek, for the pain of those I cared about and loved.

Time passed quickly after that. Nothing major marked it's passing. I went to school and did homework. I worked, I did chores, I spent time with Josie as frequently as I could. After spring break was over, Sam was forced to cut back on the patrols, leaving only at least one wolf running the line during the day, with two or more in the other eight hour shifts, depending on conditions I wasn't privy to. With all but two of the wolves still in high school, even that was a tough round the clock effort. Sometimes Josie mentioned that they might skip a class so that someone could take a nap. But still, other than a single vamp that seemed to wonder into the area that had no apparent connection, there were no attacks by Victor or his conscripts.

There were signs, for sure. The newspapers kept track of the death tolls and disappearances. It was becoming worse and worse, with specialists calling the situation an epidemic. I became more worried, but with every passing day, Josie seemed to become more relaxed, more reluctant to believe that Victor was any concern.

"We have this," she said. "He isn't going to get by all of us. Trust me."

It was hard for me to adopt such a cavalier attitude. I hadn't been socializing with the wolves quite so much in the month and a half since Harriet's funeral. I had been, but not as I had before, with all of them together.

When I spent time with Josie, it wasn't uncommon these days to bump into Quinn and Amber, as I had in the old days. Quinn wasn't around as much as she had been, and now, she almost always had Clay in tow. He gambled about and was entertaining enough for a kid, but I wasn't entirely comfortable around him. I hadn't spent much time with younger kids, and there was something very innocent, so trusting about him. Whenever I was around him, I felt like I might do something to screw him up or something. Plus, Quinn was overwhelming happy whenever she was around him and that was just hard to stomach for some reason. It was kind of nice to watch Josie watch him, though. There was something about her face that wasn't exactly longing, but more of a peace, a tranquility I didn't often see there much.

Amber was around a whole lot more than Quinn. She was the most jazzed of the wolves I had talked to about going through her transition. She loved being a wolf, even though she loved being back in the loop, and back with her friends, more. She missed them dearly and it was good to see how happy she was and how happy Josie was to have to back too.

As for spending time with the rest of the wolves, I hadn't been doing a lot of that for some reason. I had spent so time at Sam and Mason's, but it was only them and Josie and maybe Karen. The large meals that Mason usually prepared, or, at least, all the ones I had been invited to, had become community events. As the weather became warmer, everything moved outside and many others joined us. Belinda, the Clearwaters, some of the wolves family, a few of the younger teen local girls, even my mom on occasion. I had even noticed that Karen had started bringing this round-faced, rather rotund boy, one who, at a glance, I could tell she had imprinted on. Josie said she wasn't worried, but from the way she stared without realizing or when she thought I was focused on something else, she was more than a little concerned.

That was the only indication that Josie was concerned at all about our relationship. The night after the funeral, she had snuck into my room, and we had had a rather enjoyable and extended make out session on my bed, which smelled like her for more than a couple nights afterward, giving me some rather involved and interesting dreams.

We had begun sneaking away, somewhat chastely at first, no matter where we were, to find hidden away spots to become absorbed in one another. What started out as kissing became making out became intense making out become some rather racy mutual groping. We both drew the line long before clothes starting coming off because, I think, both of us were a little nervous at the idea of going that far just yet, but it was obvious that things between us were really becoming stronger every time we were together.

It was a Tuesday in mid-May, and I was driving into La Push directly after school. I was thinking about the particularly hot and heavy time we had spent watching a blurring sunset out my trucks windshield on the beach the previous Sunday. Or rather, looking at it for a few seconds before she practically knocked me out the door of the truck climbing on top of me. After that, I had almost asked her to be my girlfriend. I didn't know why I hadn't yet. Part of me was curious how long it would be until she asked me. That was just the sort of thing she would do. But part of me was wondering just how long I could actually hold off. But, if I was honest with myself, I didn't ask her because I still wasn't sure yet. I don't know what was wrong, or what could be more right, but I knew that something was missing, I couldn't put my finger on what. Until I knew, I was not going to ask her.

I wondered if I should talk to her about it as I pulled up to the Blacks house. I decided that I would, if it came up, and carried my bag with me as I walked up to the door and knocked. No one answered. That wasn't too uncommon. Belinda was spending a lot of time with Stewart these, just like my mom, keeping him company. I checked the door and it was unlocked. I walked in, as I had many times before. I knocked at Josie's room and opened the door. She was splayed on her bed, fully clothes, dead to the world.

That wasn't surprising. Josie was still doing her part with the pack, and they were running her pretty ragged. I had caught her sleeping this early more than a few times. I looked at her relaxed self, the peaceful look on her face, the bit of drool and all, and smiled. She was so beautiful. I felt lucky, I decided, even if I never was her boyfriend, I wouldn't have given up my time with her for anything in the world. Anything more would be a gift.

I didn't dare to wake her, or to curl in with her, as I had a time or two. Something about it struck me as too much just then. I felt eager for her at that moment, and the thought that we might be interrupted by Lin and resulting in us wishing we were dead, I decided against it. Instead, I decided to leave her a note.

 **Dearest Josie,** I wrote. **I found you catching up on some much-needed sleep and decided not to wake you. If you need me, I'll be**

I considered. I couldn't think of any place concrete so I just wrote **around. Hurry up and find me already! Ben.**

Of the three times I had been walking around in La Push without her knowing exactly where I was, she tracked me down without any trouble. She would find me easily enough.

I left the note on the bed beside her, leaving my bag beside the door in case she missed the note. Then I walked out of the house, unsure where to go.

I let my feet carry me, more concerned with the thoughts in my head than where I was going.

I had a pretty good idea what my future would look like. I was graduating in a couple of months. I would register with a community college, and probably the University of Washington, just to placate my mother, as soon as the mess with Victor was all finished up. I would start work as a freshman, and even if Pen-Col didn't have everything I wanted out of a school, I could always transfer at some point. I had options, choices, and they were ones I was good with. I could stay close to home, even if I did leave for a while. Who knew; maybe Josie might want to come with me at some point.

I looked around. I had made my way onto the beach. It was nice here. A year ago, all I had was the one memory here, outside of the vagaries of childhood remembrances. Now, I had tons of memories. Josie and I spent time here just about every time I visited, walking and talking. This was the place of my happiest times with Josie. I found, despite the cold, despite the wind and weather, despite every reason I once had for hating this area, Forks, and the very idea of living here, I now loved this place, my town. As I stood there, looking out at the sea, I suddenly had an image in my head; Josie in a free-flowing dress, tugged at by the wind, tears in her eyes, looking down, at me, on one knee...

I banished that thought immediately from my head. That was not a future I was ready to even entertain. I started to pace again, hoping Josie would wake up soon.

I don't know how I heard it. My ears picked it up, despite the distance and the wind. The distant, nearly unmistakable howl still carried to me.

The hair on the back of my neck was suddenly standing on end and I don't know how I knew, but I knew. Before I knew what I was doing, I was running. I had to get to-

There was a rush, a spray of water, and something hit me, hard, with brushing force. I rolled in the sand, finding my feet, though I half-rolled an ankle and couldn't fully support my own weight on it. I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't stop trying to run. There was little else I could do.

I turned, reoriented, and started took a couple of steps towards the house when I was kicked, hard, in the uninjured leg, with enough force that my leg went numb and would have crumpled under me had the blow not knocked it out from under me. I fell poorly but managed to land without hurting myself more than briefly. I couldn't get up quickly, that air knocked out of me. Before I could do more than get my hands and knees under me and catch my breath, a hand slammed down on the back of my neck, smashing my face into the gritty sand before hoisting me into the air. Suddenly, all I could see was a pair of scarlet eyes, blazing in a pale, beautiful face, a fringe of fiery red at the edges of my vision.

I was dead. I was so totally and completely dead.

No! Don't think like that. Distraction. Evasion. He knew that he had little time. He was going to make it as painful as he could, while he could. I had to make it last. Distract him. Josie would come for me. She would make it. I had to believe that, or I had nothing but to try and end it quickly.

He held me up, extending his arm to its full length. I scrabbled, holding as tightly to it as I could to keep the pressure off my neck, his wrist and clothing slick with seawater.

"Not bad," I gasped, from lack of air and lack of breath. "Jamie's... entrance... was better..."

He slammed me against something. I'm not sure what it was. The only thing that was that flat around here was the beach, but if that was the case, he did it so fast, my body didn't register the rotation. Luckily, the sand wasn't hard enough to do any serious damage. Yet.

"I'll let... you know..." I wheezed, "who's exit... was better..."

He slammed me again, twice. The second time was against wet sand. That was even less fun.

"Maybe..." I groaned, "you'll... last longer... But... I bet... you're still... a one-pump... chump..."

"It won't work," he said, his voice strangely melodic and high for his large, masculine size. "You won't trick me into a short death. Not for you. You will suffer for what you did."

"I didn't... start..." I coughed.

"What she did, then!" he thundered, smacking me twice with a stony hand, and I could already feel the swelling start.

"And look..." I squeezed out, "where it... got her..."

I don't know what he did, but pain shot up my arms and legs, as though I had simulations Charlie Horses and hit Funny Bones at the same time, both painfully sharp, enough that I cried out for the first time.

"Your plan... worked?" I asked, trying to ignore the pain. "Surprising..."

"Not really," he said. "I am just glad your little coven wasn't here. That would have set me back a month, maybe longer, especially with your little psychic friend interfering. Oh well. Even if my little friend and her compatriots are all destroyed, I can always make more if I like. Either way, it isn't as though you'll live to see it."

He looked at me, the corner of his mouth turning up, his lips pressed. I glared back. I would not give up. I weighed my options. I still had one chance. I could see it. The real pain was going to start soon, the real damage. He would keep me from bleeding as long as he could. But I couldn't allow that. He could easily cripple me and even if Josie got here in time, I still might not make it. I was out of time. If I was going to die, I was going to die fighting. If I wasn't, I had to have faith she'd get there in time.

He saw the fight in me, the determination, and grinned.

There. That was my chance. I reached back my fist. He had no clue what I was up to. All he saw was defiant, soon to be dead prey. I aimed my punch well.

I felt my skin split, blood splattering as I cut my knuckles across his exposed teeth.

"No!" he screamed, throwing me backward. I rolled and immediately started scrambling. I had to put as much space between me as I could. I looked back, just long enough to see the dead look in those blazing eyes, the tight control of his hunger locking into place, cutting off all emotion and feeling. He was going to come at me. Now was the time.

I stopped, and smiled, "She lasted longer."

And that was the moment, distracted by my blood on his face, in his mouth, that the wolf that was Josie clamped its massive jaws around his shoulder and chest.

"No!" he screamed again, his voice weirdly modulated as she shook him back and forth at immense speeds. There was sound like shearing metal, like dry ice on steel, like snapping glass, and suddenly he was in two pieces. There was a rending and breaking, unlike anything I could ever remember hearing. All I could do was drag myself back, trying to stay clear.

I felt like I was going into shock, and I probably was. I couldn't even feel my hand anymore. After what seemed an eternity, I felt a touch on my shoulder. Josie stood there, naked, a torch of driftwood in one hand.

"It's done," she said, worry in her huge eyes. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm bleeding," I gasped, feeling starting to come back to me. Yeah, it's starting to hurt."

"We'll get you to my place," she said. "You look awful. It will be okay."

"I..." I said, stunned by just how much my hand hurt.

And then, cold, deeply worrisome recognition filled me.

"Oh god," I whispered. "No. No! NO!"

The burning was starting to migrate, intensify.

I screamed. I couldn't not. The pain surpassed the fear.

"What?!" demanded Josie. "What's wrong?!"

"I'm sorry!" I cried. "Oh, Josie! I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking!"

She caught how I was cradling my hand like I was trying to hold the pain back, or maybe like I wanted to rip it off.

Her eyes went wide, "No."

"I-" I cried, actual tears in my eyes now. "I didn't want this! I wanted... I wanted you! I want you, so damned much it hurts. Oh, god, it hurts!"

"It's going to be okay, Ben," she said. "You hear me? It's going to be okay."

I went down, and from my knees, I was soon rocketed back by the agony, slammed down by the pain of it. And for one glorious moment, while my body was still stronger than the hurt that gripped me, I lost consciousness and lost time. And suddenly, I remembered Edwina. It was almost like she was there, in the dark with me. I couldn't see her and she wasn't trying to intrude or anything. She was just there too. I wanted to tell her that I hated her, that I never wanted to see her again, that she had lied, and that I was over her. But I said nothing. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She was just there with me, and somehow, I knew everything was going to be okay.

 _Be happy._

I could hear something, over and over again, and it took me a second to recognize the sound of spitting. The pain was lessening, and suddenly, I realized was happening.

She spit, hissing through clenched teeth, and then I felt lips again on my cut, and the pulling, followed by the spitting. Every once in a while, she whimpered and hissed again, as though in tiny sobs.

"Stay with me, Ben," she said. "You are going to be okay."

And then, it was done. The pain was gone again. I felt her press her nose near my hand and sniff, as though smelling deeply.

"Oh, thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

I felt her tongue lick across the wound longways, two or three times.

I opened my eyes.

Josie was wiping blood from her chin. Her lips were blackened. The veins and blood vessels radiating out from her mouth were purpled and edged in green, as though bruised. Her eyes were glassy, as though now fighting the pain I just had been.

I got up slowly, "Josie?"

She shuttered and swayed, just managing to stay upright.

"I'm fine," she said, a bit listlessly. "The venom is just... it's poisonous to us, to wolves. It isn't a lot and I wasn't actually bitten, so it will pass in a bit. Could... Could I borrow your shirt?"

I suddenly remembered just how naked she was and I quickly took off my shirt, and she put it on. Almost immediately, she ripped off one entire sleeve and wrapped up my hand.

"Let's go," she said, but she was leaning heavily against me as I leaned heavily against her, and together, we made it back to her house.

I slumped onto her couch, keeping my hand away, just in case it was dripping. Josie disappeared into her room and came back out a few seconds later in cutoff shorts and a T, carrying a first aid kit.

"Here," she said, pulling away the makeshift wrap.

"Hmmm," she said, looking at the wound. "This doesn't much look like any of the bites I've seen. What happened?"

"I punched him in the teeth," I said.

She stared at me for about five seconds, utterly silent, then burst out in a guffaw of nervous sounding laughter.

I grinned sheepishly.

"It isn't bleeding much," I commented, looking it over myself.

"That's on me," she said. "Werewolf saliva. It's a thing."

I nodded, "What happened?"

She looked at me and then realized, "Oh right. I was asleep when I heard the howl come in. I bolted for the nearest bit of forest, not bothering with keeping track of my clothes and checked in. The vampires were assaulting full out. They outnumbered us, but since we could fight together and they didn't, we were getting hurt but winning. There was only one really good fighter, and we took her down pretty quickly after the others started to run. They are probably still hunting the last few down now."

"What about you?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be out there with them?"

She smiled, but it was a shaky thing, looking put on.

"I'm following Sam's orders," she said, her eyes still pained. "I caught your scent and knew you were around. She told me to find you, to make sure you were okay before doing anything else. I am just got to you in time, before... before..."

She had to take a deep breath and looked as though she were trying to hold back tears. She was so beautiful.

"Here," she smiled, evasively, "let me see your hand."

I couldn't. I was looking at her, and suddenly the fact that I just narrowly escaped losing her, _twice_ , crashed down on me. I couldn't look away. How had I ever let us get so far apart? How did I ever let myself get so distracted from just how much she meant to me?

"No," I said, suddenly evasive myself.

She looked at me, "What? Don't be stupid. Let me-"

"No!" I said louder, pushing the first aid kit onto the floor. She came up short.

I was up from the couch and she still seemed to find her feet first. Injuries and all, I crossed the room at her while she backed into the wall, confused and weary. I pinned her there, though she obviously let me, and kissed her, hard, deeply, and though it hurt my face and just about ever other part of me to do it.

The kiss broke when we were out of breath.

"I'm done being stupid," I said. "I've been waiting for so long, too long. I almost lost everything today, again! And I can't! I just can't!"

I took her face in my hands and looked deep into her dark eyes.

"I want you," I said. "I want you to be mine, my girlfriend. God, that sounds so trite, and it doesn't even begin to cover how much you mean to me. I want there to be an us. I want it more than I can stand. I can't put into words how much you mean to me. I-"

She kissed me, giving a pained cry as she did so, and I supposed her mouth must still be hurting as much as my face. I kissed her hard, not caring from pain or restraint or fear or qualms or doubt. And as we kissed, the heat intensified. The tank top I still had on came off and she ran a hand over me as I kissed her neck, her gasping, "Oh, yes. Wait. Wait wait wait, not here."

I grabbed the hem of her shirt and she laughed, smiling.

"Come on," she said and she began pulling me towards her room. At the door, I kept walking.

"What are you-" she began, until she saw me heading towards the bathroom, smiling knowingly.

Her eyes went wide.

"No no no no no no!" she said, one part coy to one part elated to two parts sheer terror.

I grabbed a corner of her shirt and she had two choices, come or lose the shirt.

"No!" she laughed, her resistance strangely feeble, something of the typical teenage girl I never saw her as in her, amuse and anxious and besotted and smitten and girlishly delighted. I pulled her into the bathroom, pushed her towards the shower, and locked the door behind us.


	13. Chapter 13: Misunderstandings

Josie was beautiful. She laid, sprawled upon her bed lost in sleep, actually smiling. She looked innocent in her slumber, as she always did, but I could see her form now, wholly, having seen so much of it. She truly seemed as mature in my eyes as she actually was, the young woman in full bloom. I wondered how long it would take until we seemed right together, until I didn't seem so much younger. Five years? Ten? I wanted to see that, so much.

It was starting to get late, especially for a school night. I was dressing and she couldn't be roused, not until I kissed the top of her head.

"Nuhghm," she negated in blurry protest. "Stehya."

"I can't stay," I said, knowing she probably wouldn't remember this. "I need to get home. Sleep."

I smiled, kissing her cheek.

"I love you," I said.

She murmured some that sounded like "Eggs Juice" before rolling over again and starting to snore. I take another moment to bask in her, how very alive and full and wonderful she is, so completely herself the way only she can be. I will come back tomorrow and we will talk then.

I slipped out and found the house still empty. I quickly made sure that everything was in at least neat order, no incriminating underwear left anywhere or anything, and went out to the truck. I drove home carefully, my head swimming with Josie. My Josie. I was glad the roads were mostly empty because I likely would have crashed otherwise. I pulled up to the house and was surprised to see that my mother's cruiser still wasn't home. Good.

I had fabricated a story about getting beat up by some boys on the res and knew Lin would back me. I would tell mom that they had been handled and it was done, and since she had no legal or social means to deal, she would just have to brush off the whole matter. I hoped.

I was unlocking the door, wondering how far it might go, and was walking into the house when I was grabbed. A hard cold little hand grabbed my shirt, and for a moment, I thought I was dead. I thought this was it; no Josie coming to save me, I was really dead this time. But instead of feeling teeth slicing into me, I was simply dragged under the nearest light fixture which was promptly turned on.

I blinked in the unexpected light.

"Huh," I said thickly, looking around.

"Ben?" came a high, clear voice.

I looked at her.

"Alice?" I asked, staring at the tiny vampire standing before me.

"Oh Ben!" she cried, giving an entirely believable sob, suddenly clinging to me in a most indignant way, real grief on her face, everything about her crying utterly real, save for the lack of tears.

"I saw it," she cried, "I saw it happen. I was in the area on a hunting trip and I saw it! Victor, on First Beach, with you in his clutches. You were bleeding. There was no way he would have, could have left you alive. And then, you were gone. You were just gone! I couldn't see you anymore. I _can't_ see you anymore! You're gone! You're completely gone, Ben. What _happened_?!"

Something inside me broke. It was as though this wound, this old injury that I thought had long been scarred over, was suddenly ripped wide, pain flowing. Pain, and joy.

"Alice!" I enthused, bursting into tears, hugging her fiercely. "Oh, Alice!"

She hugged me back, her own sobs renewed. It was like she hadn't been gone at all. It was as though nothing had changed.

"Ben," she said, her voice watery. "I am so glad you're okay. I thought you were dead."

I shook my head, "No, I'm fine."

She snorted, "You're not fine, Ben. You look completely thrashed, actually. That much I saw. And, you're bleeding."

"Oh," I said, stepping back.

She laughed, "You're very polite, but we really should..."

She stopped, frowning. Stepping exaggeratedly forward, she bent her face closer to me and sniffed.

She practically choked.

"Ben," she gasped, "you smell..."

I furrowed my brow, "Huh?"

"What happened?" she demanded, stamping her little foot.

"Josie saved me," I said.

"How-" she froze. She turned, facing west, her face crinkling in concentration.

"How many?" she asked.

I blinked, "I..."

"Never mind," she said, waving her hand. "Well, it would seem that more has gone in here than I expected. As it would happen, this explains a lot."

I looked at her, questioningly, somehow not wanting to spoil the atmosphere of the room by introducing my own voice.

"I made a promise," she said, "not to actively keep an eye on you. But that isn't always up to me. I used to get snippets of your future, bits and pieces, but they would end or begin abruptly. I had no idea what was happening. But it makes sense now. Before we left, Jocelyn Black had a fussy future, one that flickered and was a bit tenuous. I didn't understand why that was until now."

She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have stayed away. Had I known, I would have. I didn't realize what this meant. I didn't understand. That was my mistake."

I stood straighter, "You're leaving? Already?"

She shook her head, as much to focus as in negation, "I came to be here for your mother, to help in any way I could. But that was the only reason. That reason doesn't exist anymore. So, I am going to go."

"Please!" I said. "I don't care! We don't have to talk... about her. I've really missed you."

And I had. I hadn't even let myself think about how much I missed her. It was too hard. She was a dear friend, even if we had only known each other a short time.

Before she could say anything, I smiled.

"I'll show you my closet," I said, as though in threat.

She looked horrified, "You wouldn't..."

I nodded, "I've been shopping at second-hand stores."

She muffled her ears with her hands, "I'm not listening."

"I organize by day of the week," I went on. She bit her lip, bouncing on the spot.

"I haven't bought anything new since last year," I said, "and it wasn't even new then."

Her look was singularly tortured.

"You are a terrible brother," she said, and then, looked so horrified, truly, not just teasing, and looked away from me.

I swallowed.

"You said I disappeared," I said. "Before that... Before today, nothing... nothing about my future had changed."

"It flickered," she said. "That's all. It flickered, once in a while, but that's all. It hadn't changed."

I set my jaw, "It has now."

"Yes," she said, "it has. It really has. You decided, you finally made the choice. I never thought you would. But you made the choice she..."

"The choice she hoped that I would," I said, "to move on."

Alice smiled, more sad than anything.

"I won't come back again," she said. "Not in unless you actually die and your mother needs help. You have a new life. I will respect that."

I nodded, "I'm still going to miss you, little sister."

She beamed, "No matter what, you were always my brother, and you always will be."

She hugged me.

"I wish all the best to you," she said, "and Josie. Give my regards to the pack, will you? We won't be coming back for a full generation, at least."

I smiled at her, feeling suddenly nervous for some reason.

"I will carry the message," I said. "Can... can I ask you one thing?"

She shook her head, "She wouldn't want me to tell you that."

"But I have to know," I said.

"No, you don't," she said. "She isn't a part of your life anymore. Her happiness is no longer your concern."

"Could," I started, still unable to swallow the frog. "Could you tell her something for me?"

She considered, though I knew it was just for my benefit that she let me say it aloud.

"Tell her," I said, "that I figured it out. I understand why she did it. I didn't agree, and that's okay. It was her choice. I respect it. And I'm going to be okay. Happy, even. I know it's what she wanted. She'll get her wish."

Alice pulled back, looking into my face.

She smiled, "It's so totally her loss. But she knows that too. If you two end up having a wedding that is not at La Push, I might show up, if just for a minute."

I smiled, though nervous for some reason.

"Fat chance," I said. "Even if the wolves were cool with you being there, your running commentary would be enough to get you killed anyway."

She scoffed, "I know when to keep my mouth shut."

She eyed me, and the fact that the shirt I was wearing only had one sleeve.

"I hope," she said, pausing for emphasis, "that you are happy now. And safe. It is over, with Victor, truly?"

"Yeah," I said. "Unless there is another vengeful vampire out there somewhere that we don't know about, we should be good. Everything should be okay."

She smiled, and then, as though slammed in the gut, she bent double, gasping, taking several steps back, her back hitting the wall with a dull crack. It was the wall, not her.

"Alice?" I asked, stepping forward. "Alice, what is it?"

Her eyes were distant, flitting about, as though trying to read twenty books at once.

"No!" she sobbed. "Oh, please, no!"

I looked at her, and the horror on her face was so real, so vital, I felt my guts twist, felt my hands start shaking, and somehow I knew, though my mind rejected it, refused to put it into words.

I forgot where I was. I couldn't see anything around me. I was floating in blackness, my mind cut from myself, trying to avoid the pain and the hurt and the agony I knew was coming. I couldn't see or feel or hear or do anything. It was pure avoidance.

When I came to, I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, feeling rather dazed.

"What happened, Emily?" Alice demanded and it took me a moment to realize she was on a phone and not talking to someone in the room.

"That's all you said?" she asked after a pause. "You didn't mention Ben at all?"

Another pause.

"That's the problem, Em," she said. "She is doing exactly that. And what's worse, he's not dead! He's right here! He's FINE!"

"What?!" I actually heard from the phone.

Alice began the book reading thing again.

"There's nothing we can do," she said. "If any of us get close enough for her to hear us, she'll move up her plans."

She could hear them coming. She couldn't hear me.

"I could," I mumbled, standing unsteadily. "I could do it."

Alice looked at me but said nothing.

"She can't hear me," I said. "Whatever she's planning, it doesn't matter because she won't hear me. No moved up plans. And, if she sees I'm alive, she'll stop."

Alice shook her head, "You don't understand what you're-"

"No!" I thundered, feeling like something tore in my throat. "I don't care. I'm going with you."

"Ben," she said, shaking her head, "you could die. And even if you don't-"

"I don't care," I said. "It doesn't matter. I am the only one who can do this. I can't just let her die for nothing! I just can't!"

She stared at me, "How did you know?"

"Something she said once," I explained. "Something about vampires not being able to kill themselves, needing help. It was almost like she had considered it or something; like it was a problem she had already found an answer to."

Alice nodded.

"So?" I said. "Let's go!"

"Where's your passport?" she asked.

"Desk, left bottom drawer," I answered, realizing what she planned to do. She was faster than me anyway.

Alice vanished. She returned a second later, carrying my book bag, no doubt packed. She just opened the door, and I ran. As soon as I was through it, it was closed.

"Keep going," she yelled, and I did, hearing the key in the lock. Then, she lifted me, and set me in the passenger seat of a car, the same car Rory and Emily had used for our flight from Forks the year before. She didn't bother using the other door, mine closing as she passed over me, the car moving before I could see that she was seated. I was slammed backwards against the seat, Alice driving at nearly top speed towards the highway.

"How is she doing it?" I asked, unsure if I could say the words of what she intended aloud.

"The Volturi," said Alice.

"Who are they?" I asked, trying to sound dour rather than interested.

"They are a governing body of vampires," she said. "They've been around for over three thousand years, and have been keeping vampire law for most of that time."

"Vampire law?" I asked.

She frowned, "It is just one law, one rule that they enforce in a thousand different ways, all the ways they see fit; keep the secret."

I nodded, thinking. Something was tickling in the back of my mind here, something about not being able to tell me the secret, a secret that wasn't hers to tell.

"What happens if the law is broken?" I asked but then, put it together.

Alice didn't speak.

"She's going to break the law," I said. "And they will punish her. They don't sound very forgiving."

"They aren't," she said. "They want to keep her, though."

"Keep her?" I asked.

She turned sharply.

"The Volturi are collectors," she said. "They see vampires with extraordinary gifts as commodities. Anything powerful, useful, or unusual would be much appreciated by them. They might overlook what they would perceive as crimes for a chance to keep such a gifted vampire alive. They would see it as mercy and expect them to swear fealty."

"But, that won't happen now, with her?" I asked.

Alice shook her head, "They will discuss it. That's all I can see right now. But once they make up their minds, she will likely come up with some way to force their hand if they don't grant her request. She is only a couple hours ahead of us. There might be time."

I nodded, "Let's hurry."

"I need to tell you the risks," she said.

"I don't care," I said.

"Ben," she said, sounding almost frustrated, "you don't understand."

"I don't need to understand," I said. "I might die. I get it. I'm still going. I am not going to just let her kill herself over me for no reason."

"Ben," she said, "death isn't the worst that could happen here."

I shook my head, "I don't have any illusions here, Alice. I'm not trying to get her back."

"That's not what I-"

"Enough," I said. "Please. Let's just do this."

She sighed, "Don't say I didn't try to warn you."

I didn't look at the clock. After checking my phone twice and seeing that missed a call from my mom, I just turned it off. I just knew we had to make it there. I focused on nothing but the here and now and did whatever Alice told me.

She made several calls, as we drove, and she said everything was ready when we go there. We parked in passenger drop off, and she didn't even bother to turn off the car or take the keys as we went inside. We actually got escorted through a couple of security checkpoints, a representative from the airport there with our boarding passes. We bordered the plane first, had first class seats, and changed planes more than once, even taking a small private jet, apparently just bypassing a layover and just making our connecting flight, by the time we were over the Atlantic, we had apparently gained an hour on Edwina.

"You should sleep a little," she said. "You'll need it."

"I'm too wired," I said. "This is a lot more traveling than I've ever done. I'm out of the country. That's actually a first for me."

She looked at me.

"Why are you coming with me?" she asked.

I looked at her like she was crazy, "Because I'm the only chance she's got."

"You could let her die," she said seriously.

I almost gagged and looked at her like she just suggested boiling live puppies was a hilarious pastime.

She shook her head, "I am not suggesting you're wasting your time. I would much rather my sister be alive. But, it's sort of moot, anyway."

"Why?" I asked.

"She is going to kill herself," she said. "Even if you save her, there is only one thing that will keep her alive indefinitely."

I grimaced, "I'm not the one who walked away from that choice. It isn't my decision to make anymore."

"Yes, it is!" she said, just loud enough to not be impolite. "It is and was always your choice. She seems to think that because you can't know all the outcomes of your choice, you shouldn't be allowed to make it. That just leaves you one outcome left; both your inevitable deaths."

"Okay," I said, "I'm lost."

"It's why she left," she said. "Being attacked by Jamie, your near death experience. She was forced to face the fact that you can still have the best intentions and still make choices with really bad outcomes. Case in point, flying to Italy to kill yourself!"

We were starting to get weird looks, but since we were in first class, they left us alone.

"She couldn't risk you," she said. "The slimmest chance you might die because you were a part of her life, the slimmest chance you might lose your soul; she couldn't stand it. She would rather end it all than make a mistake. But taking away your choice is wrong. I'm not willing to do that anymore."

I looked at her, carefully, "What are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath, "When this is all over, I'm willing to make you a vampire."

I stared at her. I couldn't say anything. I knew what the answer was; "Thanks but no thanks," but for some reason, the words wouldn't come out.

"There's no point," I said. "Even if I was one, it wouldn't change anything."

"Ben," she said, "believe me, even seeing the future doesn't mean you know how it will turn out. It's your choice. I am not saying you should, but the option is there, should you want it."

I nodded, "Well, I doubt I will ever take you up on it, but I will keep it in mind."

I could think of only one case in which I would seriously consider it, but imprinting was a finicky sort of thing and I wasn't going to think about that now. I was just going to go and do this and get it done, so I could get back to my life.

"You really don't owe her anything," said Alice.

"I'm a better person than that," I said.

Alice smiled, "Yeah, you are. And I'm glad you know that too."

I bowed my head, "I'm not the same person I was when you all left."

"No," agreed Alice. "I honestly can't wait to get you into some decent clothes. Can there be pictures?"

I sighed, "I'm going to sleep."

"Oh," she pouted, "but I have this great-"

"Good night, Alice," I said.

She laughed quietly under her breath, and I realized that she was manipulating me into it. I swallowed, my eyes still closed, "I really missed you."

I felt her cold hand on mine.

"I missed you too," she said.

After that, I leaned back and slowly started to drift off. Just before I was out, she said something.

It sounded an awful lot like, "I'm sorry."


	14. Chapter 14: Interception

I barely recalled getting off the plane in Florence. I didn't bask, I didn't wonder, I didn't marvel. I followed Alice's instruction. I found myself standing at the curb, waiting only a moment before she pulled up in a neon green sports car of some kind. Before I could think to ask, we were off, driving faster than I had ever moved, on the ground, except maybe when traveling by vampire.

"Is this your car?" I asked.

"No," she said, a touch of self-satisfaction in her voice.

"Where did you get it?" I asked, noticing that parts of the key turn were missing.

"Local townhouse," she said casually.

"You _stole_ it?" I gaped, appalled.

"Is that really what you need to be worrying about right now, Ben?" she ask, weaving around a half dozen cars with pinpoint precision.

"You're right," I said, trying to focus, trying to keep out errant thoughts; like who I was racing towards, or what might happen if I didn't get there in time, or what might happen if we did.

I found myself checking the mirror. My last haircut was two weeks ago, shaved short, as usual. My face was bruised badly, though the swelling was gone. My hand was fine, as Alice had redressed it between me waking and me landing, saying, "It won't be an issue, even for Edwina."

"What am I doing when we get there?" I asked.

She nodded, "Simple enough. The town will be in full swing this time of day, there isn't any special events or anything, luckily, but there will still be a lot of tourists running around. I will only be able to get you so close, otherwise, she will hear my thoughts. After that, you need to run, but not so fast that you attract too much attention."

"Right," I said. "So you will get me as close as you can, then what do I do? Specifically. I haven't actually been here before."

"They haven't quite decided," she said. "I got more of the story while I was committing grand theft auto. Apparently, Edwina was in the area the night I visited you. She was planning to look in on you, but found me instead, standing in your house, thinking about your death. She didn't think, just got on a plane, not making any decisions, just choosing whatever seemed to be the next best step. When she was landing before her first transfer, she called Emily. When she told Edwina that I said she needed to come home and didn't explain why, she decided to come here. Hold on..."

She looked to the future, apparently needing to be well timed. Then, she smiled, "We're in luck. They are going to offer her a place with them. She will turn them down, colorfully, but they won't grant her request."

I nodded, "Good. That means more time, yes?"

"Yes," she said, "and it might just be enough."

We drove into the edge of Volterra, which was so iconically Italian, it was unmistakable where we were, even to me. The clay buildings and their tiled roofs stood upon a sloping hill, nestled in tree life. Alice had no trouble getting into the township, but once inside, she said, "I need to get rid of this car. Head for the bell tower, it is hard to miss. It will be tolling in less than ten minutes. You have to get there before it finishes. This is your only chance. Don't get lost. If you need directions, ask for Palazzo dei Priori. Look for the fountain!"

I had the feeling she was pronouncing it more like me, just so it would be easier for me to hear the phonetics.

"Go!" she commanded, and I ran. I ran down narrow streets, watching by curious tourists and wide-eyed locals. I had no idea where I was going, but I could see a sort of order, and ahead was a wider walkway, and there, I saw it. The fountain. I ran to it, and as I made it to the spot, I began looking around. The bell tower was here, and I knew any moment, the bell would begin tolling. I looked around more. What was I going to do? Where was I supposed to go? I didn't see anything. I couldn't understand. I wasn't going to make it!

As grief and panic washed over me, I mentally smacked myself. NO! I was not going to fall apart. I could do this. This was Alice. She gave me everything I needed. I just needed to do it. I could do it! I just had to have a little faith.

I turned, and I saw it. It was an alley, a cove of sorts, out of the way, out of direct line of sight. I knew that this was the place. She would be there. I ran.

I had just made it to the point where I could see down the alley when the bells began to ring. No! I was going to make it. I could still make it, couldn't I?

And then, clarion and true, though it had never passed my conscious lips since the last day I was in her presence, her name sprung from me with a strength and a determination that I had not known I possessed.

"Edwina!" I called, and something cracked within me. No, not cracked, shifted. Unlike before with Alice and the old wound, it was as if something settled, as though something out of place was once again put right. It wasn't breaking; it was mending.

I could see her now. She stood back from the alley's mouth, far enough that only I could see her. She stood, her shirt drifting about her hips, still tucked into whatever clothing she had on her lower half. I didn't know. And it wasn't that she was bare-breasted or that I was in a panic. I only had eyes for her face. That face. The face that had never left my dreams, not one single night, even if the dreams were no longer nightmares. It was the face I saw every morning when I woke up and the last I saw every night before I drifted off to sleep, no matter how hard I tried to forget, to let it go. Just seeing her, and I knew everything was going to be okay. It didn't matter if she loved me. It didn't matter if we would never be together ever again. It didn't matter if I died this very moment. I knew from heart to soul that I loved her, as much as it was possible for me to ever love anyone. I couldn't fight it. I couldn't forget it. And I couldn't deny it anymore.

"Edwina!" I called again. And, I thought, though I couldn't be sure in the low light, that she smiled. She began walking forward towards the sun, as though she hadn't heard me. I ran faster.

"Edwina!" I cried, and every time it filled me with new strength, with new purpose. I passed the mouth of the alley, and then, I was there, with her. I am not sure whom was pulling whom, but soon, we were out of the way of all onlookers, back into the shadows.

She sighed, her voice catching my throat and pricking my eyes, "Ah, my very own Saint Peter. After everything that I have done, you are still here to greet me."

"Of course," I said. "I love you."

She shook her head, "And I love you. It is almost ironic. Even with all the pain it caused me, I wouldn't have my heaven smell any other way."

She put her face to my neck and inhaled, and I felt something go watery in me.

"Though," she mused, "I can't believe that I still can't hear you. You always were the best torment I could have ever imagined. I will gladly spend my forever with you, just as you are."

She smiled at me, the way she did before; before Jamie and the hunt and the hurt and the abandonment, when we together and happy and so very in love.

I don't know what made me do it. I guess, if I were honest, I did it for entirely selfish reasons. I held her firmly, her letting me, and I kissed her. She kissed me back, and my head was swimming with the never forgotten, merely buried memories of all our kisses. Tears were coursing down my face, and for the first time in so long, I felt like I could breathe again, just in time to be breathless.

At last, the kiss broke, and when it did, her eyes were wide, dark pits of blackness, so different from the eyes I remembered.

"Ben?" she asked, shock affixed to her face. I touched the hollow under her eye, looking as though she was a human that hadn't slept in many nights.

"What happened to your eyes?" I asked, unable to help myself.

"BEN?!" she cried.

Her shirt seemed to materialize back into place and she was suddenly hugging me to her, none too gently. She cried, as tearlessly as Alice, but there was something rawer to it, something deeper, less theatrical. She touched my face, gently looking over my bruises. She touched my hair, giving a little sob of regret. She turned over my hand, looking at the bandage but making no comment. She touched my arms through my shirt, my stomach, my back, marking so many differences. So many changes to the boy she had known, each a wordless bereavement for all that she had missed. Or maybe, it was for all that she had caused.

"I thought I wasn't going to get a chance to tell you," she said.

I put my finger to her lips.

"But you will," I said.

She looked as though I was twisting a knife in her.

"But, how you could you ever forgive me?" she asked, "not after everything I put you-"

"Do hate to interrupt," said a deep, faintly accented voice, obviously feminine, "but we have a pressing engagement."

I turned, instinctively putting up an arm, protectively between Edwina and whoever was speaking, only afterward realizing how stupid that was.

We were no longer alone in the alley. There were two shadows, dark gray, standing near to the back. It took me a moment to make out the hooded and cloaked figures. One was noticeably feminine, but the other was much larger and more ambiguous.

"Flavia, Delia," said Edwina. "Thank you so very much for your consideration, but your mistresses need not worry about any law being broken. I will be leaving the city immediately, under the cover of shadow."

"Your presence is requested," said the larger of the two, her voice deeper.

"Very well," she said. "Ben, why don't you-"

"No," the big one said. "Bring the boy."

Edwina was now standing between us.

"Out of the question," she said.

And suddenly, I had had enough of this.

"I'm going," I said directly.

Edwina looked back at me, confusion and irritation on her face.

"You are-" she began.

"Going to do whatever the hell I want," I said back, smoothly.

Edwina looked shocked and more than a little horrified.

"Let's go," I said, stepping up next to Edwina.

"Ooh," said the larger of the two. "I like this one! He has promise!"

"A moment," said Edwina, and before anyone could ask what she why, Alice pranced into the alley.

"Hi!" she said, smiling and waving. The more feminine of the two bowed, and the other grumbling.

"Ben," said Edwina, plaintively. "You shouldn't do this."

"It's my choice," I said.

She shook her head, "But you don't understand-"

"Enough," said a slightly drawn, breathy voice.

I turned to see that a third figure had appeared. The other two made way for him or her, but they did so casually, losing some of the obvious tension that they had been carrying before. The look on Edwina's face was instant defeat.

"Come along," the newcomer said. "My Mistress will not be left waiting."

I started walking, to follow, as the three turned. Without thinking, I crooked my arm, as I always used to, as if no time had passed, as though nothing had changed, and I felt Edwina take my arm. She shuttered gently beside me, and I looked at her, her dark eyes on mine, unblinking. I was momentarily distracted as Alice took my other arm and the two sisters looked across me, and I could see that they were having a deep exchange, one that no one but themselves were a part of.

We soon came to a grating in the back of the alley, the largest of the three shadowy figures removing it as though it were as easy as opening a letter. The other two disappeared into the darkness. I couldn't see the bottom. I didn't care. Edwina gave a cry as I stepped into the void.

I was in the air long enough for the bottom to fall out of my stomach. I was caught, by hard arms, and set unceremoniously on the ground, but as soon as my feet touched down, I felt Edwina's unmistakable arms around me.

"Don't do that," she whispered. "Please. Whatever happens, don't-"

"I haven't forgiven you," I said. I didn't know what made me say it. I just knew that it needed to be said.

She froze in the darkness before me, her face hidden from me.

"I love you," I said. "And I want to forgive you, but I can't. Not yet. What you did, what you forced me to endure, was the worst experience of my life. It changed me, and I need you to know that. I am not going to go back to being that boy I was before you ripped my heart out. You get no say in what I do or what I don't do. You never did, and you never will."

She didn't react. She didn't make a sound. She just took my arm and started guiding me along. Again, Alice took my other arm. They communicated nothing to me. And I got the impression they were trying to urge me on, that our guard was getting impatient.

At last, light began to flicker ahead, and we came into a hall of neatly tooled stonework, lit by candles and torchlight. The three that had led us here had removed their hoods and opened their cloaks. The largest was a woman, with short, almost spiky black hair and the somewhat darker skin than the faces around me. The second was beautiful, tall and thin, with shoulder-length dark hair. I still could not tell if the third was a beautiful boy or a slightly androgynous girl. But then, my question was answered for me directly.

"Brother," said a newcomer, a dark haired girl, who could have been twin to her brother in life, so similar were they in appearance. The boy was slightly shorter in stature and hair length, which was slightly lighter and wavier than his sister's.

"I thought that you were just bringing back the one," she said, giving Alice and I a strange look.

"Apparently, she had company that insisted on coming as well," said the brother.

"The Mistresses are waiting," said one of the other two women, the thinner, longer haired one.

The now four guards flanked us, and we walked down the hall into what appeared to be a large, open room, part of a tower, perhaps. Standing there were three figures. We hadn't gotten close enough to see them in earnest when the room was abruptly filled with peals of ringing laughter.

"He is alive, then?" came a strange voice, a jumble of interesting accents and intonations. "This was all for naught?"

"Yes, Auri," said Edwina, "he is alive and well. No law has been broken."

"That," said another, who's voice was hard and sharp, as though words were projectiles, voiced by a weapon, "is patently untrue."

We came to stand before them.

They were old. There wasn't any other word that applied better. Beautiful, vampire, women, all such words seemed secondary to their age. Their skin was almost translucent in places, as though worn thin by the passage of time. Their eyes had a slightly milky cast to their dark red hue, which didn't seem to have any ill-effect upon their ability to see. Their hair was long and free, and while I couldn't see anything of them inside of their cloaks, I got the impression that more than simply functional clothing was still a new enough concept to them that they hadn't truly embraced fashion. Or maybe, they just didn't care.

The second who had spoken was blonde, the other two brunette, and they stood in the order that they spoke, left to right. I got the impression they had been doing so for quite some time.

"Peace, sister," said Auri. "There is no breach here that cannot be contained, nor is there need to administer justice now that cannot be done in but a bit of time."

Our guard circled about, each coming to kneel before Auri, allowing her to stroke their faces, each in kind.

At last, when each had returned to their station around us, she turned to look at me, "Ben."

She said my voice with an unnerving familiarity, and I was instantly uncomfortable, but not so much so that I couldn't hide it.

"You are quite the young man," she said. "I was wondering, might I touch your hand?"

I took a deep breath, "Why?"

She crowed a laugh.

"Do you see?" she said, addressing no one in particular or maybe the room at large or maybe persons the rest of us could not see. It was hard to tell.

"He has such promise," she said. "Yes. We must know, surely, how deep his gifts might go."

"First," I cut in, hoping my voice wasn't shaking as much as I thought it was. "I wish to know what crime I am being charged with, and second, what you hope to gain by touching me."

There was a beat of silence, no one spoke or moved. All except Alice. She beamed at me, as though loving the humor of it all.

"Why you-" began the blonde one, her words so loud and fierce they were actually painful.

"Now, Cloelia," said Auri. "He is being not only unreasonable but wise. We will not punish him for what so few of us possess."

Cloelia turned to her sister, "You will not dictate my actions! He is insolent."

"He is acting in his own best interest," Auri said. "He seeks to be treated as an equal."

"He is a human!" cried Cloelia.

"For now," said Auri.

The third, whose name I still didn't know, was silent and looked bored.

"Please," said Auri, to Edwina this time. I couldn't help the feeling that she was somehow commanding the room, even each of us. I suddenly felt as though I were a piece on a chess board, and the game master was doing her work.

"Auri is telepathic," said Edwina. "But, unlike me, she cannot listen at range."

"So very useful," said Auri, a teasing note of jealousy in her voice that I was sure was more than simple mockery.

"And," Edwina went on, "she isn't limited to your current thoughts. With a single touch, she can know every thought your mind has ever had."

I immediately wanted to bulk, but then I considered. This wasn't about knowing my thoughts; this was about seeing if she could, about seeing how deep my "gifts" might go. What gifts? Then, I knew that I must do. I drew my thoughts together and made my decision.

I walked forward, and as I suspected, the guards paid no attention to me. As a human, I wasn't considered at threat. That was good to know.

I came before Auri and knelt as the guard had done. She stepped forward herself, a smile growing on her face. Then, I looked at her sharply, enough that she actually came up short.

"You have only answered one of my two conditions," I said, keeping my tone as flat as I could.

Her eyes went wide, looking at me intently, then slowly looked closer as though beginning to reason it out. I understood something of the telepath in her. She was used to constant flows of knowledge, as Edwina was. Anything that could be withheld from her was a curiosity, and nothing was of more interest to a telepath than to have their interest sated. I had played on her expectations, knowing her curiosity would be too much, that she would have to answer my other question or else force the issue and lose this facade she was putting on of the gracious host. It was a small thing, but it was a victory, in the human's favor, over one of the figureheads of the Volturi.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she said, gesturing to her sister.

"You are being charged with nothing," said Cloelia spat. "You are just a human, after all. It is your companions crimes for which you must answer."

I nodded, as though unsurprised, "In what way have they broken the Law?"

"That is none of your business!" cried Cloelia.

I didn't move, even as she stepped towards me with her words. I just started at her, unaffected. I knew a bully when I saw one. I was not impressed. I looked to Auri. I thought I heard Edwina say something behind me, but I was too busy with what I was doing to check what it was.

"You know of our kind," said Auri. "You are not one of us and have no compunction to keep our secrets. There is only two choices for you."

I nodded, "Immortality or death."

Auri looked almost eager at the prospect, though I was not sure which intrigued her more.

With an air of respectful concession, I held out my hand to her, palm up.

She took it, with a reverence, but I could almost see the tremor in her hand, the subtle desire of an addict getting her fix. At first, I thought it was her power, but as she took my hand, stroking it lightly, I thought that her drug of choice might actually be knowledge. I could tell immediately that it hadn't worked, that my mind was as blank to her as it was to Edwina, but rather than angering her, she laughed uproariously. I felt heady; there might be more to my strange mind than just a barrier between me and Edwina. I might have some power of my own.

"I wonder..." said Auri, and looked to the only male member of the guard.

"No!" screamed Edwina, and something happened that I could not follow with my feeble human senses. All I knew was that soon, Edwina was on the floor before me, bowed, as though some great sensation was pulling her taught. Her face was closed off, neutral, but the small motions of her limbs were undeniable agony.

It only took a cursory glance to see that the boy was looking at Edwina, a look of undisguised triumph and delight upon his face.

I turned and walked directly to one of the tall wrought iron candelabra that stood beside the door. I turned, hefting it like a staff, and began walking towards the boy. The other guards looked and dismissed me until I turned and thrust the flames of the candles at the boy's cloak.

He shrieked, in surprise, not fear, and stepped back, patting himself out with a few deft gestures. Whatever he was doing to Edwina, it stopped and she relaxed. One of the guards that wasn't his sister laughed.

The candles were now out, and I stood, holding the candelabra like a weapon once again. He started daggers at me, then smirked, much as he had when he was looking at Edwina. But then, nothing happened. He looked surprised and angered, and began walking forward. In an instant. Alice and Edwina were standing beside me, and I was situated back where I had been standing before the whole mess started.

"I believe that answers your question," said Edwina, her words calm, but her expression was angry as she glared at the boy.

"Peace, Dearest John," said Auri. She came forward and looped her arm about his throat, pressing her palm to the opposite side of her face as she chastely brushed his nearer check with her oddly pale lips, her eyes never leaving mine. Something about the gesture was cloying, almost sickly sweet, with all the love and affection of a clinically administered hypodermic syringe.

John looked dazed, the same sort of eager giddiness you might expect from an abused child who caught their parent in a praising mood. I felt my stomach turn.

"So, what to do with such a child," said Auri, continuing to stroke John, something unsavory in her motions, suggestive, and I was doubly repulsed when I realized she was making me a subtle offer, attempting to tempt me into something I couldn't even bare to think about.

Edwina let loose a snarl that was more fearsome and bestial than anything I had ever heard come from her. Auri stepped back from John, looking affronted.

"Come now," she said. "That was just rude!"

The guard tensed, their stances widening, but none so much as took a step forward.

Alice shook her head, clucking her tongue, and Edwina shot her a piercing looked, then stepped backward. I stood a little straighter.

"I have no intent of spreading your secret," I said, trying to defuse the room at large. "The breach you are suggesting puts the Cullens at risk. I would rather die than do that."

"It's true," said Auri, "and I believe it. But I am just one voice here. At any rate, there are three acceptable courses of action here. One, you died."

Against, Edwina hissed, but it was only a quiet sign of distaste compared to what she had made before.

"Two," she went on, as though Edwina didn't exist, "you can become one of us, now, directly."

I winced, remembering the pain of it.

"Or," she said turning, and I saw Edwina's shocked expression beside me.

"Or," she said again, "your lover here can decide to change you herself."

I stared at her, then at Edwina. And then came the idea of it, an idea so unlikely, so impossible, it had never occurred to me.

Edwina, holding me, as the loving woman I knew her to be, kissing me, then my neck. Me, mouthing that it was okay and that I loved her, as her teeth sliced, cleanly and pure, into my flesh. Her venom flowing in my veins, her deciding to keep me and have me beside her, become what she was, and us staying together forever. And her, continuing to hold me as the pain took over, holding her cool self against my fiery pain, her tending to me in my suffering, willing and able to pay this price to keep me forever.

I wanted it. Despite the pain and doubt and everything she had put me through, I wanted it bad. My heart hammered at the very thought of it. Edwina looked at me confused, not understanding. I wanted to turn away, to hide my desire from her, as I used to, so afraid that what I wanted could never be that I would never think to ask for it.

But I wasn't that boy anymore. I let my express stand, starkly on my face, and Edwina saw and became frightened.

"No," she said. "No, no. No! I can't! I can't do that."

I stared at her, as though she had said nothing.

"You don't understand," she said, whipping her head back and forth so fast, it blurred. "Even if... I just... It's not..."

"What?" I said snidely. "I'm still just an idiot child who can't possibly understand the choice he's making?"

"No," she said, cowed and unhappy.

"Then what?" I said. "You're not willing to risk my soul? Don't you get it?!"

I slammed down the candelabra between us, the metal ringing as it struck the stone of the floor. I clutched fistfuls of her shirt, my face full in hers, my rage palpable.

"I hate how much I love you!" I screamed. "I would give it all up, my life, my heart, my soul, to spend forever with you! I can't run from how much I want it, no matter how hard I try! No matter what distractions I find or new ways I choose to bury it, to depose it, to deny it, I can't! I love you, and you threw it all away?! For what!? Because you couldn't risk losing me!? How stupid are you!?"

"I want to kill you!" she screamed back, just as passionately I as did. I registered shock, on my face and hers, but she was opening up and there wasn't stopping it now.

"I wasn't afraid that I was chancing your life be having you be a part of mine," she shrieked, so quickly her words began to run together. "I was risking your life simply being near you. I am a monster! I want your blood just barely less than I want to love you forever, and that margin has only gotten narrower since I tasted your blood."

A look crossed her face, a shuttering ecstasy that was so visceral, so real, I felt Alice grip my arm, ready to pull me away in an instant.

"You have no idea how good you are," Edwina said, her voice so suggestive I felt myself blushing. "I remember, as you well know, perfectly. The way you taste, it's like liquid love, like purest joy, like every craving your body and soul could ever conceivably have being sated at once. It's the kiss of heaven. God's blood couldn't taste as sweet. And I know it's always there, waiting, just as good, just as I remember, and no one is stopping me from having more but me. How long will it be until I decide just a taste, just a sip? Do you have any idea how tempting that is, how unsafe I am to you, even now?"

She looked so tormented, as though she was being tortured this very moment, just breathing my scent.

"When you died," she said, her voice so mangled it was hard to make it out, "when I thought you were dead, do you know what the first thing that went through my mind was? Regret. Regret that I didn't face up to what I was and do the deed myself."

She beat her chest so hard, I could hear the damage her blows did.

"I'm a monster!" she cried. "I deserved to die. Not you! I would rather die than... than..."

She dropped to her knees, her arms splayed in surrender.

"How can I ever truly say that I love you when your death inspired such blasphemy?" she warbled. "What right do I have to keep you when I do so to escape my own shameful weakness? Is there no limit to my capacity for evil?"

I looked at her. I knew what I had to do.

Alice stifled a shriek. I looked to her, her hands over her mouth. She glanced over towards the three mistresses, the matriarchs of the Volturi.

"Do nothing."

To my surprise, it was the third, the bored one who spoke, a single raised eyebrow the only thing about her face that wasn't still locked in that bored expression.

I turned back to Edwina, who looked confused and unsure.

I held up my hand, the back turned towards her, the bandage apparent.

"I got this," I said, "punching Victor in the teeth. I did it to bleed so that he would be distracted so that he would have all his attention on me, the way Jamie was when you came for me."

I showed her my other hand, baring my wrist, now scarred, tinged with pale skin that was noticeably cooler than the rest of me.

With a jerk, I ripped the bandage away. I felt the sting, the pulling of flesh, and the taste of gathered saliva. I knew I was bleeding again.

Edwina knew it too. Her eyes were wide, horrified. My face utterly blank, I flicked my wrist, splattering her face with flecks of my blood. She shuttered, but her black eyes betrayed nothing.

"Show me," I said. "Show me the monster in you."

She just stared. I wasn't sure what I expected, but she didn't move. She just kept staring at me. And that was when I realized, her face was still full of emotion. Appalled and scared and desperate and disheveled, but she was not the empty-faced hunter she had been that day in the meadow. Dark as her eyes were, they were still hers.

I clutched her face, hand still bleeding.

"You deserve nothing," I said. "No one in this entire world is entitled to a single thing. You don't get what you want out of life. You want what you get out of it. So, you had a horrible thought on what was one of the worst days of your existence. So what? Is that any reason to give up? Is that any reason to fall apart? No. You get back up and do what you know to be right. You keep going. You don't quit because it's hard. We're all weak. We're all monsters sometimes. That doesn't make you worthless. That doesn't mean I don't love you."

She kissed me. I let her. It was rough, frantic, and oh so desperate. And yet, she didn't put enough force into a single one of her movement that tweaked a single one of my many injuries.

She tore a section from the hem of her shirt. She wiped her face and held it to the back of my hand to stanch the bleeding. After reapplying the bandage, she took the cloth and burned it the flame of an ensconced torch. When she retook her place at my side, she didn't loop her arm through mine. She understood. I loved her. But I still didn't change that she had hurt me.

In silence, the third figurehead stepped forward, touching two fingers to Auri palm. She sighed, taking it all in.

"Marcia has never felt a strength like the one that is in your bond before," said Auri. "You have the potential for the greatest love that she has every felt, but it is only potential, at the moment. That still isn't enough. You must mean to keep him forever or kill him yourselves if he is to allowed to leave here as a mortal."

Alice walked up before Auri. She grabbed Alice's hand, practically before she had finished extending it. She clasped it in both of her, her mouth falling open in a smile nearly slack with fixation.

And then, it was done.

"Yes," sighed Auri. "Amazing."

"What did you see?" asked Cloelia, looking frustrated at Auri's vagueness.

"The future," said Auri. "Vagaries of time and flow of threads. All that might be."

"And what will," finished Alice.

Auri laughed, delighted and manic.

"It is a certainty," said Auri. "He will be one of us or he will die. The future is sure in this regard. There is nothing anymore that will keep him from that."

Something about her words caught at me. I felt scared, unnerved, and shameful, and I couldn't put my finger on why. Edwina turned and looked at me, and there was something in her expression, a pain, a shock, and a deep, empathetic heartbreak.

And then, I knew. I knew what Alice had been trying to warn me about. I knew what this trip had cost me. I knew that now, my future, my simple, one or the other future, the path that I had thought I had given up on, the path that I thought was forever gone for me, was back. I was going to die by Edwina's hand or become a vampire, again, which could mean only one thing.

I had lost Josie. I loved her. I had made love to her, in the realest sense of the term. And I had left her. I had come here, without a single look back, without a second thought, to save Edwina, because I loved her more. I knew it and there was no way I could deny it. By coming here, I had taken the blinders of my eyes and knew that no matter what happened, I couldn't go back to Josie. No matter what I wanted or what she wanted, I couldn't deny that she was my second choice. It wasn't possible for me to ever tell her anything but the truth, and I could never expect her to accept that. I doubt that she would now, even if I wanted to deny myself and retain my ignorance. It was done, and so were we.

I felt Alice's hand as she turned to stand beside us. She helped me to stand, to remain straight before the three.

Auri turned to the other two, but mostly to Marcia.

"Their pull to one another is undeniable, their future inevitable," she said casually. "You have felt it. You know, sister."

Marcia nodded. Cloelia looked disgruntled by resigned.

"Thank you, friends!" Auri said expansively. "We are grateful for your continued good faith with us. We normally would bare witness to your passing out of our city to ensure that the Law is maintained, but there is no need in this particular instance. We show you our faith in return, and wish you well."

She looked at me, a fanatical gleam in her eye that was contrary to her pleasant expression.

"We do so look forward to meeting the young new Mr. Hawkins when he has finished his transformation. Please, do plan a return trip soon."

This seemed to mollify Cloelia as well as made my skin crawl. I nodded in time with the others, bowing slightly. I followed their lead as we back out half way before turning to leave. I couldn't take anything in, feeling dazed and withdrawn. We walked out, and as we did, it dawned on me that we had done it. We had saved Edwina and were going to make it out, alive and unimpeded. This didn't help with my state of disconnection.

We came through a few doors, and up some stairs, and somehow came out onto what looked like a hotel lobby with a few rows of cushioned couches. I moved to them, for lack of anything to do, a pair, facing each other, and sat. I don't know how long I had been sitting there, absently fixated on the pattern of the expensive looking material the couch was made from, before I realized that Alice was gone.

"Where?" I asked, finding it hard to find more words.

"She getting a car and organize our trip home," Edwina said, sitting opposite me.

I looked at her, and the fact that she was here and safe and that everything, for the moment, was going to be okay crashed over me, heavier than before. I felt tears in my eyes. She was safe and I was safe, and that fact made everything just a little bit better. I wasn't sure if I was prepared to let her back in, to feel anything this good about her just yet.

"I know..." she started, but then had to take a moment to steady herself. "I know you don't owe me anything. We aren't together and I know things can't go back to the way they were. And despite that I know you still love me, I know how mad you still are, how hurt. So, understand that when I ask this, I wish to insinuate nothing upon you or pressure you in any way. Can I sit beside you? Can I... May I touch you?"

I looked at her. I knew she wasn't lying. She had no reason to lie. We had had only a few moment between her realizing that I was alive and us being taken by the guard. I knew her well enough to know that she has been dying to reaffirm my existence in more detail since that moment and that some part of her is equally tormented at the thought that she might do something more to hurt me. It twisted in me because I knew now. I knew what it cost her to be near me and to leave me. There was a part of her that had truly wanted to kill me. I knew it, but I hadn't understood it until now. Drinking my blood couldn't have been easy. Stopping must have been next to impossible. However, she had a choice. She decided to run, without a word, without talking to me. She hadn't trusted me, and I didn't know how to trust her anymore.

But I wasn't her. And I wasn't running.

"I don't know how to trust you," I said flatly.

Something came into her expression, sort of a recognition tinged with wonder and amusement. She didn't laugh, but it was a close thing.

"Okay," she said.

I sighed, "I can't give you what I once did. I am afraid and I don't feel safe with you. I don't know how to trust you again."

She nodded and considered, then she folded her hands, looking relaxed and as though she was trying to hold back bubbles of contentment.

"What can you give me?" she asked, and there was a light in her dark eyes, unlike anything I had seen in her since we had reunited.

I tried not to smile. It wasn't easy. I looked at her, then glanced at the seat beside me, and back at her. Before my eyes could find her again, she was gone, already in the seat beside me. I looked over at her hand and took it in two of mine. Cold, hard, perfect; exactly how I remembered it. I leaned my head on her stone shoulder, and she adjusted her position to allow me more comfort.

She sighed, a tad roughly, "I really missed you."

And the poignant, almost guilty happiness I felt in that moment was so profound, it felt abnormal, supernatural, much like her.

"You suck, you know that," I said, almost teasingly in the relief I felt in our closeness.

"Yep," she said, so much like just another girl. "Frequently."

I sat up and looked at her, astonished.

She raised her eyebrows at me, "Vampire. Remember?"

I burst out laughing. It hurt. It hurt, I loved her so much. She meant everything to me. And I didn't want to forgive her, but I think I already had. And part of me didn't care. I would still be hurting and unhappy for a long time after that, and I had no idea how long it would take until I would be okay with the idea of us. For now, I didn't care to think about it. All that mattered was here and now, and getting home. I knew that I would have a lot of explaining to do.


	15. Chapter 15: Homecoming

The plane ride home wasn't bad. Granted, I felt more afraid, mostly because I actually let myself think about what my mom might do to me when I got home, as opposed to thinking of the impossible, as I hadn't done when we were headed to Volterra. But the company was better.

I slept some, but not well. I kept having nightmares of red-eyed monsters coming to take me away in the night for not being one of them.

"What am I going to do?" I asked.

"I doubt they will be able to find you," said Edwina. "Delia is their tracker and she follows the tenor of someone's thoughts. If you really are protected from mental abilities, there's every chance that you could escape them as well as anyone who's location they weren't certain of."

"No," I said dismissively. "I'm not worried about that. What am I going to tell my mom?"

"Oh," said Alice, "I left a note."

"You did?" I asked desperately. "What did you say?"

Alice beamed, "I just wrote 'I'm sorry. Edwina needs me. You can ground me when I get home.'"

Edwina chuckled, "That sounds like something you'd write."

"Oh shut up," I said.

I had said it the way I would have said to Josie, harsh and without sarcasm. I suppose they didn't understand that it was meant affectionately, and I really didn't feel like telling them. As much as I wanted to keep talking about any plans I might need in order to not be strangled when I got home, I was stuck thinking about Josie.

She had no idea what happened to me. She must have been worried sick. How could I have just left her like that? I mean, I knew I had no idea what was going to happen when I left her, but still. I left her with nothing, and now... I just hoped I'd get the chance to explain. If I could have anything in the world, it was that.

Second, I wished that I wasn't so scared. I knew that there was every chance that Josie would tell me to blow it out my ass, and she would have every right to and I wouldn't blame her in the least. But she was still my best friend. I was terrified now that I had stepped over some line and now there was no way back. I knew how she thought. In the us-versus-them mentality, I was solidly one of them now, and there was no more us.

When I wasn't caught up in fear, I was shredded by guilty. I remembered every moment I was with Josie, every little bit of it, in painstaking, full-blown detail. Things that made me feel woozy or giddy or weak, things that made me blush and tremble and burn. Things that made me float and swell and beam. And now, all of that, all of my happiest moments with her, were tainted by betrayal. And in that, I realized, even if I could, even if I wanted to go back to Edwina, now, I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had resolved things with Josie.

I slept some more, and this time I couldn't really remember my nightmares. Something about the Volturi coming to take Josie away so Edwina could make me a vampire already. I shook off the dream and found Alice staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

She sighed.

"Edwina still has some friends in town," she said. "Someone told her about Josie, and she ran away from home. I drove up to see if she was here. I didn't want to risk Edwina being here and getting freaked out and taking off again. I said we had relatives in Denali that Edwina might be staying with and you said you wanted to go too. I broke your phone calling home as we left, and you didn't remember your mother's number to call."

She handed me my phone. The screen was cracked.

"I'll buy you a new one," she said. "So we drove up to Denali and she was there. She was in a bad way, mom. Like lost-the-will-to-live kinda bad. It wasn't a fun trip."

I nodded, "Thanks."

"It's the least I could do," she said. "After all, you saved my favorite sister."

Edwina gave her a look.

"What?" asked Alice playfully. "You know it's true. Emily won't even let me touch her hair."

I laughed before I realized it was true. She must have done Edwina's hair the few times I had seen it up and the like. It seemed so obvious in retrospect.

"Really," she went on, "there's only one way left for me to make it up to you."

"Alice," said Edwina, and there was a noticeable growl to her single utterance.

"What?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

"I could plan your wedding," she said.

I was pretty sure the plane could have lost both wings and I wouldn't have noticed. The stasis my brain was locked in quickly turned to confusion.

"Plan my-" I stammered, squinting at her.

"Your," she corrected.

Then I got it.

"Oh," I said, "you mean our wed-"

And then I got it.

I am pretty sure the whole plane could have vanished and my clothes could have burst into flames and I wouldn't have twitched.

I looked at Edwina, and she looked, of all things, embarrassed and a bit shy.

"You didn't need to do that, Alice," said Edwina. "It isn't fair, jerking him around like that. He has the right to make his own decisions."

Alice tsked her.

"He does," she said. "And his free will bring him to marriage."

"Argh!" I said, covering my ears. "Could you stop saying that?"

"He has the right to change his mind," said Edwina tremulously. "He has the right to choice... another path... if he wants to."

I looked at her, and she looked back, sad but determined.

"Ben," she said, taking my hand for emphasis rather than in any romantic way.

"I understand what I did hurt you," she went on. "Had I known then what would happened-"

Alice gave an almost cutesy clearing of her throat.

Edwina sighed.

"Had I believed what was going to happen," she reiterated, "I never would have done it. I'm not trying to take it back or have you take me back, but I am prepared to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again. However..."

She seemed incapable of forming words.

"If you have, moved on," she said, each word precise, even, inflectionless, "if you don't want... if you can't..."

She closed her eyes and stilled her face. I just looked at her. I wasn't about to help her here.

"I understand," she said, she turned and looked out the window and didn't move more than a living human should until we touched down.

It was late, I was trying to figure it out when Alice said, "It's Friday night. Don't worry about your shift. I already called in sick for you."

I blinked, looking at her oddly.

"What?" she asked, in a perfect impersonation of my voice, enough that it completely unnerved me. She laughed.

We had made it out of security when I was surprised by our waiting party. Emily grabbed me and Edwina around the waist from behind, lifting us ably into the air and twirling us about.

"I'm gonna hurl," I said in protest, and she put us down as Rory gave her a reproachful look. Emanuel swept in a moment later, taking Edwina into his arms, holding her to him. He was just tall enough to lift her from the ground as he held her to him, and her legs dangled loosely, looking somehow childlike.

"You will never put me through that again," he whispered, holding her.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she said sounding even younger.

I looked over to see Jasper and Alice standing together, hand on arm, just looking into each others' faces. It reminded me of an imprinted person and her pair. It made me happy for her, for them.

"We got the car," said Katherine. "You can use it to return Ben home."

Alice's eyes didn't leave Jasper's.

"I don't need to go," she said. "Ben will be inside before she knows he's home. She won't need to see me in the car."

Jasper touched her face and smiled. She pressed her cheek to his hand, "Besides, I want sex."

Jasper raised an eyebrow. Emily guffawed and Rory coughed. Alice took Jasper's arm and the two walked off to who knew where. My money was on a hotel room.

There was the jingle of keys and I turned to see Edwina catch them but give me an apologetic look.

"Would you mind if I drove you home?" she asked.

"No," I said before I could tell if I really did. Turned out I didn't.

"Thank you, Ben," said Katherine, and as I turned to acknowledge her, she hugged me, and Emanuel too.

"You have done a great service to this family," she said. "We won't forget it."

"Sure, s-" I started the stopped myself.

"Okay," I said. "You're welcome, I mean."

They let me go, standing, watching us, they're heads together, looking more like parents than anyone who looked so young.

"Come," said Edwina.

"Are you coming straight home afterward?" asked Emanuel.

"I will hunt before I return," she said.

I didn't ask what that meant. I wasn't ready to. We just turned and walked. She didn't offer a hand. I didn't offer an arm. We just walked to the car. I was about to ask how she knew where it was, but then I remembered with whom I was with.

We got in, and she pulled smoothly out. Despite the jet lag and the long hours of mostly sitting and the slight tension between us, this was utterly familiar, right almost.

I glanced over at her, intent on driving, saying nothing. A thought entered my head, and it made me laugh.

"What?" she asked, glancing at me.

"What are you thinking?" I asked meaningfully.

She smiled. She was just as beautiful as I remembered her. Maybe more so. How was that even possible?

"I was just wondering," she said, "what happened to you. While I was away. I see you in there but you practically don't look like yourself anymore. I'm not sure where it all has come from, what has happened exactly. I would have asked, even if you hadn't beaten me to the punch."

"Ask," I said. "I'll answer anything I am able."

She considered, "Surely you're not afraid of my reaction this time."

"No," I said. "It just part of it involves more than myself, and a lot of that's just none of your business."

"Of course," she said immediately. "I understand. What happened after I left?"

I considered her question for the first time while being completely honest with myself.

"I came back from the hospital and sat around feeling sorry for myself," I said. "Once I got over that, I became determined to wait you out. I didn't even admit to myself that is what I was doing. I was going to go to Pen-Col, to spite you because you hated the idea of me going to such a small school. I thought you might come back for that alone."

She snorted, "I wouldn't have lasted that long."

For the first time, I really believed her. Her coming back seemed like a coincidence or an accident before, something unintentionally. Now, her coming back made sense to me, at least a little. She had been coming back, for me.

"Anyway," she said, unaware of my thoughts. "You were saying?"

"Sorry," I said, just looking her, swept up in the realizing that it was true. She hadn't been strong enough to stay away. Why did that make me happy?

"Sorry," I said again. "I was determined to stay here. I did everything I could to separate myself from the old me and move towards the me that I thought was good enough to have you. I worked out because I thought it would make me more attractive. I changed my wardrobe to something more respectable, even if I didn't have tons of money to spend on it, like I wanted to. I got a job, to have some better prospects and to pay for my own schooling. I even had a period where I tried to learn to be handy around the house, but after trying to put a lock on my window, to keep you out should you return, which broke immediately, I lost hope in ever being good at that and moved on. But no matter what I did, it was never enough. I kept dreaming of you, kept getting reminded of you, almost every day, by people who just didn't understand, who couldn't understand, that I wasn't getting over you. I cut myself off. I listened to music whenever I didn't absolutely have to stop. I did everything I could to fill up my time, wading through this miserable existence, waiting for the life I wanted, for you to come back. I had to, even though I couldn't admit that I was lying to myself."

"Lying about what?" she asked.

I smiled humorlessly, "I didn't want to admit to myself what I was doing, not only because it hurt to feel like I still cared about you when you left, but also because I was terrified that you had been telling the truth, that you never loved me and you were never coming back."

She sighed, "I implied that I never loved you."

I looked her, "Huh?"

"I never said that I didn't," she said. "I couldn't. It is silly, but the best I could do was infer and imply and hint. I couldn't even tell you the lies I hoped would get you to move on."

There was a long silence.

"And you did," she said."

"I tried to," I said. "I wanted to. The more denial and distraction I could heap on the memory of us, the easier it was to pretend I was living again. At first, it was fighting people."

She looked utterly appalled, "You got into fights? _You_?"

"A few," I said. "Mostly wasn't my fault. Mostly. I wasn't exactly walking away or anything. But then, I started hanging out with Josie."

I watched her carefully. If there were any feelings of discomfort or jealous, they didn't show.

I took a deep breath. I wasn't Edwina. I wasn't going to run because something scared me. I was going to tell the truth.

"At first, she was just a distraction," I said, "and a very good one. She's attractive and fun and funny and saw the good in me. But in a time when even my mom seemed to be writing me off because I was too difficult, she cared about me and expected more from than to just be some Neanderthal automaton. After a while, we were at odds; she wanted me to be human and I just wanted more of a distraction. I desired her."

Edwina readjusted back to the center of the lane. It wasn't jerky. It wasn't even all that noticeable unless you knew her like I did.

I kept going.

"Eventually, her strength of character won out," I said. "She made me feel human again. She wouldn't let me use her and demanded that I treat her like a person. She was uncompromising and forthright and honest and-"

"You love her," she said. I noted the present tense. I thought that she might have known I would. She stated it like someone who noticed that I had dropped something and she was letting me know. But I could read that expression. She was fighting back tormented.

"Yes," I said honestly and easily.

I took her hand, the one I knew she had kept on the console between us just in case I might decide to take it. I took it and I held it.

"I love you too," I said. "I love the both of you. And that is really too bad. You both wonderfully worthy, worthwhile women, who deserve the greatest possible person beside you. If I was half that man, I could lead a happy life. But I'm not. I'm far from perfect. I keep making stupid mistake after stupid mistake."

She looked at me, "Such as?"

I shrugged, "Had I any real strength of character, I would haven't been affected at all by you leaving. I would have smiled, told you that I still loved you, that you loving me back had no effect on that, and that I hoped your decision made you happy. I would have moved on with my life. But I never would have gotten involved with Josie. Because, sadly for her, despite everything that has happened since you left, I love you more."

She pulled over. It was dark on the highway, and she kept the lights on. Once the car was parked, she seemed to curl into herself, her eyes closed, the pain on her face visceral and hard for me to bear.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Are you sure you would rather..."

She swallowed a grimace.

"She was there for you," she said. "She helped you. She didn't turn her back on you and abandon you. You love her and she was obviously very good for you. Better than I ever was. If I had met you in the state you were in after I broke your heart, I don't think I could have helped you be whole again. I wouldn't have known even where to start."

After a very lengthy pause, she sat straighter, turning towards me in her seat and taking my hand fully in hers, drawing her finger across the scars in my wrist.

"I won't suggest that you choose her over me," I said. "I can't do that. I know the price of a life without you, and unless it is your choice, really your choice, I will do all in my power to be at your side. But even if you... if you decide you don't want to be with me, I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you again. I know better, now. But if you decide to be with her-"

I put a crooked finger under her chin, raising her face from my wrist.

"I love you," I said. "I've made my choice. There are only two things between us now. One, I have to talk to Josie. I have to tell her the truth, the whole thing, all of it. I don't know how she's going to react or what is going to happen, but I need to do it and take responsibility for my actions and the consequences of those actions."

She gave a little smile, squeezing my hand, her expression still sad.

"You're a good man, Benjamin Hawkins," she said. "I'm sorry that I can't be there for you when you do, but if you let me know when, I'll be there for you when you get back."

I nodded, "And, two."

She looked at me, "And two?"

"I need to learn to trust you again," I said.

She smiled, "You still do."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Trust me," she said. "If you didn't, you never would have had the ability to be so honest, so forward when you told me you didn't. You might not want to trust me or might find excuses not to, but you still do."

I sat back astonished. She was completely correct.

"You're right," I said because I had to admit it. "I am making excuses and I don't want to. I'm scared and I need help figuring out how to get over myself, I guess."

I frowned, trying to hide a smile, which all just kind of merged into a sad, almost tearful expression on my face.

"You know," I said thickly, "the one person who I would want to talk to about it, who could help me the most with this, is Josie."

And then, Edwina was against me, holding me to her, and I was crying.

"I'm just so scared that she won't give me a chance to explain," I cried. "Or, if she does, it won't matter. I'll just be a traitor to her now. I am so scared there isn't any way not to lose my best friend."

She patted my back and let me cry myself out. I leaned back and she wiped away my tears. Holding my face gently, she looked deep into my eyes.

"If she rejects you, then she's an idiot," she said. "I would rather have you in my life as a friend than try to find reasons to hate you."

I frowned, "Hating is easy. Forgiveness, that's the hard one."

"No," she said, "it's not. You have that backward. To forgive, all you have to do is let go. Holding on, that's the hard part. It takes work. It takes away your choices. It makes you miserable."

Smiling, still holding my hand, she turned back to the wheel and moved us back onto the road.

"I didn't do a much better job of letting go than you did," she said. "I knew from the beginning that what I was doing was wrong, but I had to. I mean, there was a solid statistical chance that I might kill you, that I had been dismissing as being real because I didn't want it to be true. Once I did admit it, how could I stay? How could I risk you? What would you have done? If there was a chance that you would end my existence in pain and death, simply by being with me, for your own unbelievable pleasure, what would you do? When staying felt like you were doing it just to increase the chances you would actually go through with it, could you stay?"

I thought about it. Put like that, it wasn't too hard to understand why she left. If she had stayed and talked, it would have guaranteed an increased chance that she might kill me. Her desire hadn't been some errant notion or some obscure possibility. It had been an honest probability, something she had wanted to do. If I had known how good sex with Josie would have been, and it had been a million times better, but it would have killed her to do it, I might have just left rather than risk her.

I nodded as understand came to me, no words needing to be said.

"Staying away wasn't easy," she said. "It was like being a human, holding a sixty-pound weight that you can never put down. Ever. It took constant attention, second guessing my every decision, disciplining myself to make sure I was actually doing what I had decided and not what I might want to do more. It became equally hard to stay away from you because I love you and because I wanted to kill you. Neither path was one I was allowing myself, so both became equally strong and subconscious and could be the possible reason I was going back. It used to sit around, trying to contextualize and calculate the risk, just to give myself something distracting to do that drove home why I was doing that to myself. Outside of occasionally hunting, I was utterly useless. I pretty much petrified and did absolutely nothing."

She smiled at me, a sad sort of self-deprecating smile.

"I cheated once," she said. "I came to your house one night. I didn't allow myself to see you because I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave if I did. Your sleep was not restful. You had nightmares. And..."

She looked pained by the memory.

"You screamed," she said, her voice breaking for the first time that I could remember. "You said to leave you alone. It was too much. I told myself for a long time that I would never come back after that. I couldn't pretend that you weren't dreaming about me."

I sighed.

"I wanted so badly to let you go," I said. "I think the only way I would have had any chance was if it had really been over. But, I've been over it and over it on the flight. If any tiny detail had changed, it would have changed nothing or left you dead."

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter. Nothing can change what is. If I had come and seen you happy, I'd like to think that I would have had the strength to let you be. But, more than likely, finding you alone, I would have knocked at your door and begged you to take me back. And even if you didn't, I would have come back. I would have waited, biding my time. There's always the chance that Josie would have been just as imperfect as I am and done something that would have ended your relationship. I have been waiting for you a hundred and four years, ten months, and twenty-nine days. I can wait a little long."

She squeezed my hand.

"Talk to Josie," she said. "Tell her what you need to. Put things right. Take all the time you need in order to let yourself trust me. I'll be waiting, as long as it takes."

She slowed to a halt, and I was amazed to find that we were here. I was home.

Of course, I felt myself spin back, returning to a time long ago, when I was scrabbling for any excuse to stay in this car, with her.

"When will I see you again?" I asked.

She grinned, managing not to laugh.

"Well," she said, "we have class on Monday, so we will see each other than, at the very least."

I knew what she was hinting at. She wanted to know if she was allowed to watch me sleep. Or rather, she was asking, subtly, politely, so that I might be able to refuse easily. I wasn't ready.

"Monday," I affirmed.

She nodded, showing no sign of impatience or dissatisfaction, "Monday."

I was about to exit, but then I leaned to her. To her credit, she didn't meet me, didn't co-opt the gesture. She was still as I kissed her cheek and exited the car brusquely.

She turned and drove away. I watched her go. I turned towards the house. It was dark and quiet. I started walking towards the door. It occurred to me halfway to the house that I was sort of surprised. I realized that I had half expected Josie to be waiting in the woods, ready to pounce on me the moment I arrived home. The fact that she didn't seemed ominous somehow.

I unlocked the door with my key, vaguely glad mom hadn't done anything drastic like changed them. I stood in the doorway, bag in hand, and waited. It took less than three seconds.

Mom's bedroom door slammed open and she charged me. I threw up my arms, the most self-defense I had time for before she hugged me surprisingly fiercely.

She turned on the light, holding me at arm's length, looking me over for injuries. She saw the bruises on my face and the bandage in my hand and was suddenly horrified.

"No, mom," I said, "this has nothing to do with that."

She looked suddenly stern.

"You were in La Push when that gang fight happened?" she asked.

Well, I supposed that was the best explanation for what happened she was going to get.

"Yeah," I said. Mom, "I'm really sor-"

She threw a hand and looking like she was trying to hold in three days worth of screaming.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"Denali," I said.

She blinked at me, completely derailed.

"Denali?" she asked. "What's in Denali? Where is Denali?"

"Alaska," I said.

She looked as though I had just clouted her over the head with an unabridged dictionary. Or maybe like she was about to clout me over the head with an unabridged dictionary.

"Alaska?" she asked. "Why were you in Alaska?"

"Do you want me to start at the beginning?" I asked.

"Do," she commanded, practically crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"I went to see Josie Tuesday night," I said. "I was on my way home after she and her friends handed that gang. I was trying to stay out of it, but I got battered a bit. It wasn't bad, really."

"Move along," she said, doing the whole twirling hand motion and everything.

"Anyway," I said. "I get home, and Alice Cullen was waiting for me."

Her eyes narrowed, "Continue."

"Apparently," I said, "Edwina still has some friends in town. Someone told her about Josie, and she ran away from home. Alice drove up to see if she was here."

Mom didn't look happy.

"She drove all the way up her from L.A. to look for her sister?" she asked. "Why didn't she just call first?"

"She said she didn't want to risk Edwina being here and getting freaked out and taking off again," I continued. "She said they had relatives in Denali that Edwina might be staying with and I said I wanted to go too."

All of this felt really natural and easy at the time, but I realized that Alice's explanation was really close to mine. Had she been quoting me back to myself?

Mom looked at me like she was thinking of where she could hide the body.

"She was really torn up, mom," I said, trying for compassionate, but probably just coming off as defensive. "I wanted to help. If there was something I could do, I wanted to do it. I needed to."

"And?" she demanded. "What happened?"

"Alice broke my phone calling home as we left," I said, digging out my broken phone as evidence. "I didn't remember your number to call. I'm sorry."

She sighed heavily but said nothing.

"So we drove up to Denali and she was there," I said. "She was in a bad way, mom. Like lost-the-will-to-live kinda bad. It wasn't a fun trip."

"So?" she asked.

"So," I said, "I talked to her. It was good to clear the air."

"Did she tell you why so dumped you?" she blurted out. "Did she tell you why she hasn't so much as written you a letter or called or even hinted that she knew or cared that you were alive?! What business it is of hers what you do with your own life!?"

"She was moving," I invented. "She didn't have a choice. It was either end it quick and hoped I moved on or risk watching things between us die slowly. She decided to give me the best chance at moving on."

"And you did," she said. "So, she got what she wanted. Big deal."

"Mom," I said. "She didn't get what she wanted. Being with me is what she wanted. She did what she thought she had to do. So did I."

"What do you mean?" she demanded, sounding angry again.

"She is what I want," I said.

She looked at me like she didn't know me, then she became still, so still it scared me.

"You're..." she said. "You're back together with her, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," I said steadily. "I still have to talk to Josie, tell her everything. And I am not ready for all that with her, not after what she did."

"Ha," mom laughed, but it sounded hollow, humorless, dead.

"So, Josie and you," she said, "after all you two went through, all the work you did, all that building a life and learning to care and being close and making good decisions and being happy and all of that, you're just going to boot her out? You're just going to kick her to the curb, just like that? Do have any idea how harsh that is, how unfair, how cruel?!"

I suddenly realized that this might have less to do Josie and more to do with her. Without thinking about it, I reached out and took my mother's hand.

"Mom," I said, sort of jostling her hand in mine. "Would you really have wanted dad to stay, knowing that it wasn't what he really wanted, just so you could pretend that you were happy together? Would you really want him to sacrifice that for you, and live a lie, all for your sole benefit?"

She looked at me like I had just smacked her. Emotionally, I guess I had. I just looked at her. I knew what she was feeling. I had been abandoned too. But unlike her, I was starting to get my happy ending back. She felt like she was getting left behind, again. She had to find someone else to champion her cause of abandonment. Josie fit nicely. But this wasn't about them. This was about me.

"I love her, mom," I said, "and I am so angry that things turned out this way. Josie is amazing, but I know what I want. And it's not her. It might be easier if it was, but that isn't a thing that I can change. I would have to unmake who I am to change that, and I don't even know how to begin thinking about doing that. All I can do is try to make the best decision with the knowledge I have."

She shook her head.

"It's never easy," she said, "getting left behind."

I nodded, "I know. It isn't easy to leave."

She nodded.

"You're grounded, by the way," she said.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I figured. Until?"

"Until you graduate," she said.

I nodded, "Work, home, and school. Anywhere else?"

"No," she said obstinately. "If you're going to have it out with Josie, it's going to be here. And no, if she leaves, you can't go after her. She isn't obligated to take this well."

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

"And no Edwina," she said. "You can see her in school and I can't stop you from seeing her at work, but other than that, it's no go."

"Okay," I said. "Phone privileges?"

"Revoked," she said hotly, "unless it's your dad or school related."

"But," I said, "Josie..."

"I'll tell Belinda," she said, "in the morning. Josie will make up her own mind where and when. You will have to live with that."

"Alright," I said. "Can I go to bed now?"

She hugged me, "If you ever scare me like that again, I'm kicking you out. I'll do it. A mother's heart can only take so much."

I hugged her back.

"I'm sorry mom," I said. "If there was any other way I could have done it, I would have."

I clunked upstairs. I found my room vaguely reconstructed. Apparently, mom had been through it, looking for some other clue as to where I had gone. It hadn't been put back together very well. I would worry about that tomorrow.

My room didn't feel like it had before. I had been around the world. I had had both the girls I loved here. It had housed me for my baby years and half the time in the first half of my childhood. I had slept beside someone for the first time here. It just didn't seem like the same room anymore, but it was. It didn't seem to fit me anymore. It was a room, and it felt familiar and safe, but it didn't feel quite like home anymore. Is this what growing up felt like? Was this the sort of change I would be giving up if I became a vampire?

I sighed and sat on my bed, wondering if I could find the energy to shower. I did, almost in the hopes that it would be like casting a magic spell and would conjure Josie out of the night, but it did not. I dress for bed and laid down, thinking about the future. Saturday I would fix my room, do my chores, see about what school I missed and what I could do to get makeup work. Then, I would work Sunday and be back to school on Monday, which would be all kinds of fun with the return of the Cullens. Hopefully, Josie would come by tomorrow. I hoped she would. I had to tell her the truth, tell her that it was my fault and own up to it. I didn't know how she would take it. I just prayed she would understand. Despite everything, I desperately missed my best friend. I still needed her.


	16. Chapter 16: Reunion

"I can't tell if you're completely insane or a total badass," said Jesse. We were sitting at lunch, with Mickie, Angelo, and Brenda. He was covertly looking across the cafeteria to where Edwina sat, at what, for a few short days, had been our table last year. She waited, alone, seemingly completely comfortable, and, though no one else understood it for what it was, exchanging looks with Alice who was sitting with a new group of girlfriends since the rest of the Cullens has supposedly graduated and gone off to college.

"Dude," said Jesse, giving up on looking at her and turning his full attention on me. "Edwina Cullen dumps you, after less than a week, then, after more than a year, comes crawling back, and you just leave her hanging?"

"Who says she came back for me?" I asked, trying to sound dismissive.

"Dude!" said Jesse. "She has your EXACT same schedule! She is sitting alone at YOUR table! What does she have to do?! A strip-a-gram!?"

"Jesse," said Angelo. "You're being a jerk."

I wasn't surprised. For one, he was being a jerk. For another, Angelo had worked out when it was appropriate to call him out on it. What was surprising was he listened.

He glanced at Mickie who was sitting beside him and looked sort of like he had forgotten she was there.

"Am I?" he asked, and she looked up at him with a rather sappy expression.

"Only a little," she said, as though she daren't complain.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said. "But you know I'm not into her or anything, right? It's about reputation and stuff, what I would do if I was him."

He looked to me but put an arm around her.

"Seriously, dude," he said. "After the hell she put you through, I get why you're letting her sweat. She's getting what she deserves. But, really, isn't this exactly what you wanted? She's back, right?"

It turned out, way back in February, when our movie plans fell through, only two people ended up showing. Jesse and Mickie. They had had an okay time, sort of breaking the ice since their break up. When Mickie came onto me a week later and I shut her down hard, she actually turned to Jesse for solace and comforting. Apparently, they had started dating in secret, something they both enjoyed more than we thought that they would. It wasn't until about two weeks ago that they got discovered making out in the school parking lot while skipping school, and the jig was up. I had more important things on my mind.

"Jesse," said Angelo, "that was before. Things are different now."

It was Wednesday. I had been back school for three days now, as had the Cullens. The rumor mill was dying down. The dust was settling. Everything was moving forward, as it should have. All except for one thing.

"Still no word from her?" asked Angelo.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that I knew Edwina was listening in.

"No," I said. "No one has seen her since Friday. She hasn't been home. None of her friends know where she is."

Josie was gone. That's all I could get out of Belinda, through mom. I'm sure there was more to the story, but that all I was getting. If the wolves wanted to find her, they could. She wanted to be gone. And I thought I knew why.

She, or one of the wolves, must have been there Friday night. Whether they took off immediately or saw me kiss Edwina's cheek or overheard what I said was incidental. She was gone. My chance was gone. Until she came back there was nothing I could do. I knew it and Edwina knew it.

Alice, on the other hand, was becoming impatient.

I had found the new phone in my room Monday morning. All the Cullens had been added to my list of contacts, my number was the same, but the phone looked like it was three or four generations ahead of the phone I had had before. There was one text waiting for me.

 **Unlimited minutes, texts, and data. Don't tell your mom or she'll take it. You can always move out, so don't feel stifled. Edwina wants to drive you to school, but I said it should wait until you're not grounded anymore. Oh, and get over it. Planning a wedding takes time. I need this wrapped up already. You have until Thursday. -A**

"That's too bad," said Mickie, sounding sincere. "What do you think happened?"

"She bailed," said Jesse. "I mean, if I were her, I won't want to stick around and compete with Edwina Cullen over a guy. Especially one who is so obviously in love with her."

All my friends, and Edwina across the tables between us, turned to look at me.

I didn't answer. There was nothing I could say that didn't sound like arguing to me.

"Don't pester him," said Mickie. "He cares about Josie too. It sucks. If it isn't one running off, it's the other."

"Can we talk about something else?" I cut in, feeling uncomfortable.

"Sorry," said Angelo. "Do you need any more help catching up with your school work?"

"Yeah," I said. "Another study session at my place?"

"Sure," he said. "I can't tonight. Tomorrow?"

"That will work," I said. "I just need to catch up on Calculus. Math and me don't get along."

I saw Edwina glance at me. Catching me catch her, she winced an apology and went back to pretending she was ignoring me. She probably would have been the best tutor, but my mom's death-to-Edwina-Cullen campaign was still in full swing. Hell would freeze over, melt, boil off, rain back down, and freeze once more before she would let her into our house again.

"I can help with that," said Angelo. "I am good with math."

The bell rang. We said out goodbyes and the rest of the day passed in silence. I literally didn't speak a word. No teacher spoke to me, and no student approached me. I felt Edwina's eyes on me the entire time, even if I knew or could see she wasn't looking. I wanted to move forward, but I felt stuck. I needed to talk to Josie.

I left school as I always did, immediately and came straight home. However, this time, there was a tall, dark athletic girl with short hair sitting cockily on my porch. I nearly broke my leg trying to get out of the truck before I realized it was Amber.

"Hey," I said, hoping she hadn't noticed my behavior. She didn't indicate either way.

"Hey, man," she said. She actually came up and gave me a hug. However, her covert sniffing was not as covert as I think she would have liked.

"I'm not spending time with them," I said. "Not yet anyway. And even if I do, that's my business."

She put up her hands, "Hey, Ben. You know how it is. I'm just following orders."

I scowled, "You could have just asked."

"And you could have just lied," she said back.

"Why would I?" I asked. "I'm your friend and there's no reason for it."

"Are you?" she asked.

"You're friend?" I asked. "Sure. I can be friends to vampires and werewolves. There's no rule against it."

"You can't be allies to two enemies," she said. "It's only a matter of time before someone needs you to pick a side. Are you honestly telling me that you would side with us when the time came?"

I wasn't going to answer that. She wanted to argue, that much was clear. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction, not when there was a much more pressing question at hand.

"What's been going on?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Not much. We scented vampires Friday night. We pulled back our lines when we realized it was the Cullens and that they had returned. Josie said she was done, phased back to human and left, on foot. Sam said to let her be. She knows how to survive in the woods. She'll be fine on her own and she'll come back when she's ready. So far, she's stayed human."

I shook my head, "If that changes, I would appreciate you letting me know. I need to talk to her, to tell her..."

I couldn't put it into words. I needed her here to say it. I needed to see the pain I caused her, to give her the chance to hit me or cuss at me or leave. I needed her to lay down the consequences of my stupidity upon me.

"Ben," said Amber. "She gets it. I mean, she may not be okay with it, and it might take time for her to be okay with it again, but she'll get there. It's your life. She knows that."

"I love her too," I said. "I don't want her gone. I miss her."

"We all do," said Amber. "She'll come back when she's ready."

She stepped off my porch, then stopped.

"In the meantime," she said, "you may want to think about what you really want. Is what you're doing worth losing Josie over?"

I wanted to say that was up to Josie, but was it? Could I really expect her to change so much, just for me? Me, the guy who betrayed her in the most hurtful way possible? Before I could gather my words, she turned, walked into the woods, and vanished.

I did homework. I made dinner. I did the many little chores my mom left for me to do every day I wasn't working. Mom got home and we ate, saying nothing outside of the usual pleasantries. The entire time, I was thinking about what Amber said.

Was being with Edwina worth losing Josie? The answer was obvious. Yes. It was. I spent the entire evening trying to find perspective on it. How could I say losing Josie was easy when it was clearly so hard?

That night, after my homework and workout and shower were done, I opened my window and waited. And waited. Less than a minute later, Edwina climbed silently into the room.

"Am I a bad person?" I asked.

"No," she said, pain leeching into her expression.

I shot her a hard look, and she halted her motions to comfort me. And then, she took a deep breath, and the girl I had know so well seemed to fall away. The little mannerisms, the bearing, the poise, all shifted, leaving someone colder, older, a vampire, standing in my room.

"No," she said flatly. "It makes you a person."

"How?" I asked. "How can giving up on her not be a bad thing?"

She stood before me and looked at me. I couldn't see her well in the dimly lit room, but what details I could were strange. Her face wasn't expressionless. It was deep, full of experience and witnessing, tired somehow, as though weighted down by the toils of simply existing as long as she had.

"You," she said, her voice slightly drawn, resonant in a gripping sort of way, "are afraid. You believe that you must feel worthless for not being with Josie. If your decision were easy, you are afraid that you must not have really cared. You believe you have to torment yourself because it was simple for you and because you believe your choice hurt her. It didn't. She chose to believe it did."

I digested that.

"Why would she choose to believe that?" I asked.

Her eyes changed. Rather than just looking at me, they found mine. They awakened, a light in them comforting and real and young and spirited.

"Because she's afraid," she said. "Josie thinks that if you aren't with her, if you didn't choose her, that means she's worthless. And she's wrong. If she let go of her fear, she would be happier."

I looked at her, really, really looked. She was... a goddess to me. She was old and wise and yet young and vibrant. She was gorgeous and perfect and yet flawed and occasionally irrational. She was passionate and compassionate and patient and girlish and womanly and alive and free and chastened and sexy and smart and more. My mind couldn't fit all the things she was to me. She was everything I wanted, everything I could ask for and then some.

"How do you let go of fear?" I asked her.

She smiled, redoubling her beauty and weakening my knees.

"With love," she said simply.

I loved her. I loved her to the limits of the known universe and back again. I loved her with ever aspect of every component of every fiber of my being. I loved her, all that she was, all that she will be, and all she could ever be. I would never stop loving her.

"If it isn't too much," I said, "if it isn't too hard for you, could you... could you lie with me?"

She took to the bed with me, an utterly serene expression on her face, as though she knew where she was meant to be and was finally there. For the first time in I wasn't sure how long, I felt home.

"You are wrong," I said as she settled herself above the blanket as I settled below it. "You would have been more than up to the task of bringing me back from who I was after the breakup. At some point, you will have to give yourself the credit you deserve."

She considered that.

"I hope Josie comes back," she said. "And not just so you can straighten all this out. I want her to be a part of your life. She loves you and you deserve to have that, her being a young werewolf notwithstanding. But she is your friend, and if she loves you and is important to you, I want her here, in your life."

I knew it. I had told Josie that she would have accepted her, and I was right.

"I love you," I said, and her expression didn't change. She knew. She would always know because it would never change.

"Forever," I whispered, and meant it, gripping her hand.

And, in that moment, I knew why Alice wanted me to get over myself. This moment is what she saw, as inevitable as the sun and the moon and the stars. She was probably off somewhere, squealing with delight, far from where anyone could hear her so she wouldn't burst any eardrums. Because I saw what she saw too.

I could see Edwina in a white dress, flowers in her hair, perfect and so beautiful it made my soul ache. Alice would get her way. I would let her do as she wished, and Edwina would, as well, I knew. But, I still had to do the important part.

In that moment, addled by oncoming sleep, I almost asked. At the last moment, I remembered myself. I needed a ring. I could have done it without one, and I knew Edwina would have accepted, accepting me without one. But this small thing was something I wanted, something I knew she would want too; to do it the human way, to feel human in this, to be frantically happy and beguiled and swooning and in love, as I got down on one knee and proposed marriage.

The next time I was alone with Alice, I would ask her where the ring was. Not how to find a ring or where the best place to buy one; I would ask her where Edwina's ring was, exactly, and what I needed to do to get it. And I would. I would do anything for her. My dad was going to kill me.

She kissed my forehead as I began to drift away, humming her lullaby to me, her scent in my nose, her hand on mine, her beside me, where I would sleep every night until the day would come that I would never sleep again. And when that day would come, she would still be beside me. Forever.


	17. Epilogue

Josie

I awoke and Ben wasn't there. He never was. It still took me a minute to understand why I was under the trees. It was cool and a bit breezy, damp under the shaded sky. I needed no tent or tool. I was of the earth, and my spirit gave me strength, warding me from the chill and the damp and discomfort. I would have been more comfortable if Ben had been here, but I bet he wouldn't.

I went back over it in my mind, while I was still so sleepy that it seemed real as waking to me, here on the edge of the Dreaming Place. I had woke the next day when my alarm for school had gone off, and Ben was gone, just as he had ever day ever since. It took me a minute to remember why that was a good thing. I had seen just enough of my mom for her to drop any bombs on me about losing my V card, but when she said nothing, I thought I was in the clear. But when I called Ben after school, it went straight to voice mail, which had never happened. After school, I borrowed the car from Amber's mom and drove up to see him.

The truck had been in the drive. And I hadn't made it to the front door before I was slammed by the unmistakable scent of vampire. I nearly phased right then and there, busting a seam in my shorts and several more threads in my shirt I was vibrating so hard. I managed to get things under control, just long enough to think that he might be dead already, and I had to hit the woods and strip before I lost it completely. Making sure no one saw, I investigated quickly. It wasn't a scent I knew and Ben was not scared when he left. And they had left. The scents were practically on top of each other, ending at where a car must have been parked. Only then had I noticed that the wolves running the line, Karen and Cynthia, were calling for help and preparing for a possible fight.

Sam had thrown her weight around. If it had been an unfriendly vampire, Ben would have been killed. It was likely one of the Cullens, and I didn't want to hear about that. I liked that idea even less than being held by angry, evil leeches. At least then I would have something to crush and destroy. Now...

I was hungry. I wished a simple bit of foraging would sustain me, but I was feeling ravenous. It would have been simple enough to phase, to become my other self, as much me as I was now, but there was a price to using such power. I would have to share myself with the pack, grant them my thoughts and knowledge and feelings as they have me theirs. And I couldn't. I didn't wish this pain on anyone. And it was hard enough to forget why I was here without being reminded constantly in the thoughts of others.

My greatest fear, the one thing I wished to avoid most in the world had come to pass. I lost him. I lost him! To her!

I had to take a moment to relax, feeling the shimmer around me that meant shifting was close.

Calm. Breathe. Even. Let go.

I could still see it, see them together, driving up to his house. I hadn't stayed. And when I realized that there was no way to stop seeing what Paula was watching, no way to avoid what she would see unless I were human, were never again a wolf, I told them I was done being a wolf, phased and left.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter that the boy, the man I loved had left me, without a word, without a goodbye, had simply disappeared, like the heartless player I knew he wasn't, running off to find the girl who broke his heart and treated him like trash. It didn't matter that she was my enemy, a monster that my people swore to destroy. It didn't matter that they were back, residing just outside our land, our home. It didn't matter that I had lost just about everything in the world that meant anything to me. And I knew, my final fear, the one that I never even had the heart to voice aloud might soon come to pass. It was only a matter of time before Ben would be one of them.

I couldn't dwell. I needed something to occupy myself. Food. I needed food.

I could cook meat over fire. I had learned at our tribal bonfires. I just needed the animal.

I reached out with my senses, drawing in the forest around me, searching. I began to move, to stalk, to seek out trails and prints and evidence. Soon, I caught the smell of a black tail. I followed her. I could hear her, and I closed silently. It would be quick. I could offer her that, at least.

She didn't have a chance. As soon as she heard me, I was already too close, already moving faster than she ever could. My hands closed around her neck, and with a jerk and a shake, it was all over. She felt nothing else.

I held her, for a moment, and then, something seemed to overcome me. I was starving. I couldn't wait for cooking fires or stripping fur or anything. I bowed over her and feasted, my teeth cutting cleanly into her. I ate through the skin and tore into her meat, tearing away thick tendrils of warm muscle. The blood was hot in my throat, tasting good, better than eating like this had ever tasted in my wolf form. It was overwhelmingly potent, and I gorged, swallowing great chunks of meat, barely chewed, lapping up the blood as well. At long last, I came back to myself.

What was left of the deer was in ruins, tatters. Pretty much all muscle below the jawline was gone. The skin was in bits, thrown all over the place. Most of the major organs were gone as well. I looked around, as though I must have slid a large portion of meat away without noticing, but it really was all gone. The kill was surprisingly clean, with very little blood upon the ground.

It took a minute to really have what I had done sink it. And, what was worse, I was still hungry and wanted to do it again.

The very idea seemed to twinge inside of me, and suddenly, I felt nauseated. I didn't get nauseated. I didn't even puke when I got the flu. And besides, I hadn't even had a single sniffle since I had become a wolf. My stomach twinged again, and I found myself turning to the nearest tree, vomiting stringy red upon the ground.

What was going on?! This was wrong. I knew my body and something was changing. I put my hand to my stomach, and I froze. Something was different. I pulled the tattered and weather-worn shirt aside and looked.

Being a werewolf had its benefits. Looking ten years more filled out and not having an ounce of unnecessary fat on you were two of the better ones. My stomach had been flat, and with some noticeable abs, but that had changed since the last I had checked. I'd certainly not had that small but defined bump sticking out between my hips.

This... wasn't possible. What was happening?!

I hadn't had a cycle since before I first phased. Not even imprinting with a mature partner got things started again. There was never a single story of a wolf being pregnant. This was the stuff of miracles, of immaculate conceptions and magic. Only there had been a father. Ben was just gone now. Maybe gone forever.

I didn't want this! Once again, life had shoved its way in and taken my choices away from me. I didn't want to be the Chieftess. I didn't want to be a wolf. I didn't want to lose the man I loved to some bloodsucking bitch. I didn't want to do this... alone.

Something in my twinged. I froze. It wasn't the nausea that I felt before. I put my hand over my womb. Did... did you move?

As if in answer, I felt something shift, even so slightly, within me.

I... I wasn't alone. She was coming. Or he. And fast. It had been a couple of weeks. To being showing inside the first month was... impossible.

Said the werewolf.

I flinched, hearing his voice in my head. He told me that I could do anything. I didn't believe him. He made me feel like I could do anything, but now that he was gone, I felt...

Enough. I didn't have a choice. If this is what the Spirit Ancestors were calling on me to do next, I would. I would do my duty.

I knew that I couldn't phase. There wasn't any telling what would happen if I did. I couldn't go back, not yet. There wasn't any telling what Sam might do. I would stay out here, and feed and look after myself, upon the Earth, in the old way. I would wait for a sign. This was my choice. This was my duty. This was my life.


End file.
